THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


DEBTOR  AND  CREDITOR; 


Mt  of  fyt  Sinus. 


BY  T.  S.  ARTHUR, 

LUTOOB  OF  "BICHES  HATE  WINGS,"  "BBING  IN  THE  WOKLD," 

"KEEPING  VP  AJPKARAVCES,"  "MAKISO  HASTE 

TO  BE  BICH,"  ETC. 


NEW    EDITION. 


NEW  YOEK: 
J.  M.  FAIR  CHILD   &   CO. 

109  NASSAU-STREET. 
1857. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1847, 

BY  BAKEE  &  SCEIBNER, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


PS 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  EMBARRASSMENTS, 5 

CHAPTER  II. 
THEIR  PROGRESS, 13 

CHAPTER   III. 
THE  CRISIS, 25 

CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  FAILURE, 42 

CHAPTER  V. 
THE  MEETING  OF  CREDITORS, 62 

CHAPTER  VI. 
THE  ASSIGNMENT, 74 

CHAPTER   VII. 
COMING  DOWN — LOOKING  TO  THE  FUTURE,  ....   92 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
ErFErrs 106 

' 


IV  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

PiO, 

NOBLE  SELF-DEVOTION, 113 

CHAPTER  X. 
SOME  CHANGE  IN  THE  ASPECT.  OF  AFFAIRS,.  . .   129 

CHAPTER  XI. 
MARION'S  REWARD, 139 

CHAPTER  XII. 
THE    OPERATION    OF  TURNER'S  NO-RELEASE 

SYSTEM, 154 

CHAPTER  Xm. 
EVERTON  OUTWITTED, 162 

CHAPTER  X3V. 
THE  DAWN  OF  BETTER  DAYS, 172 

CHAPTER  XV 
CONCLUSION, 177 


DEBTOR  AND  CREDITOR. 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE    BEGINNING    OF    EMBARRASSMENTS. 

AFTER  a  severe  struggle  of  twenty  years  in 
the  business  world,  Mr.  Lewis  Coleman  found 
himself  inextricably  involved  in  difficulties. 
During  at  least  seven  years  of  that  period,  he 
had  suffered  more  than  poverty  could  inflict 
upon  any  man  ;  for,  overtrading  and  losses  had 
so  crippled  him  that,  in  the  whole  time,  ho 
had  not  once  laid  his  head  upon  his  pillow 
without  an  oppressive  weight  of  care  on  his 
bosom. 

Most  men,  in  like  circumstances,  act  ag  Mr. 
Colman  acted.  They  toil  on  in  hope,  yea^  after 
year,  though  all  is  really  hopeless.  lit  five 
years  before,  Mr.  Coleman  found  himselfVcom- 
pelled  to  stop  payment,  he  had  called  his^  cre- 
ditors together,  and  given  up  every  thing' into 
theii  hands,  he  would  have  paid  a  better  divi- 
1* 


6  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITi  R. 

dend  by  at  least  thirty  per  cent,  than  he  was 
finaHy  able  to  make.  But,  it  is  no  easy  mat- 
ter to  look  bankruptcy  in  the  face,  even  in 
this  country,  where  the  penalties  are  so  much 
lighter  than  in  other  parts  of  the  world.  The 
unfortunate  debtor  who  commits  even  serious 
mistakes  in  his  efforts  to  sustain  a  crippled 
business,  deserves  at  least  some  consideration  ; 
and  to  palliate  and  excuse  his  errors  is  often 
more  just  than  to  charge  him  with  premeditat- 
ed wrong. 

We  have  heard  it  remarked  by  men  who 
have  themselves  been  tried  in  the  fire,  that,  as 
far  as  experience  and  observation  enabled  them 
to  judge,  they  were  satisfied  that  men  in  busi- 
ness, whose  affairs  had  become  seriously  em- 
barrassed, were,  to  a  certain  degree,  insane, 
for  in  no  other  way  could  they  account  for 
what  they  had  themselves  done,  and  seen  others 
do,  in  cases  of  great  extremity.  There  is  more 
truth  in  this  than  persons  who  have  never 
been  so  tried,  may  feel  disposed  to  believe. 
Acts,  really  dishonest  in  themselves,  when 
viewed  abstractly,  are  done,  and  these  acts  are 
pronounced  dishonest  by  creditors,  and  visited 
with  the  harshest  punishment  they  can  inflict, 
when,  in  the  mind  of  the  bewildered,  distressed, 
and  agitated  debtor,  at  the  time  such  acts  were 


BEGINNING    OF    EMBARRASSMENTS.  7 

done,  there  was  no  thought  of  securing  any 
selfish  good,  but  only  the  hope  of  extricating 
himself  from  difficulties,  and  paying  those  to 
whom  he  owed  money  every  cent  that  was  due. 
But,  the  acts  were  the  acts  of  an  insane  man — 
of  a  man  whose  mind  had  lost  its  clear  rational 
perceptions — though  judged  as  the  cool,  de- 
liberate purposes  of  one  who  had  fraud  in  his 
heart. 

It  will  not  be  without  its  uso  to  show  how 
Mr.  Coleman  did  act  during  tae  short  period 
that  elapsed  before  the  final  business  catastro- 
phe came.  Judged  by  strict  rules,  many  things 
in  his  conduct  cannot  be  justified ;  but  it  is  the 
ruling  end  of  a  man's  life  that  determines  the 
quality  of  his  acts.  This  should  ever  be  kept 
in  mind  in  all  the  judgments  we  make  upon 
men's  conduct.  Cross  words  and  violent 
storms  may  drive  a  man  sometimes  a  little  out 
of  his  way  ;  but  when  he  is  honest,  at  heart,  he 
will,  as  soon  as  opportunity  offers,  consult  his 
compass  and  chart,  and  by  the  aid  of  new  ob- 
servations, get  his  vessel  once  more  in  her  true 
course.  That  he  is  to  blame  for  having,  even 
in  the  most  violent  storm,  neglected  his  chart 
and  compass,  no  one  will  deny ;  but  the  cen- 
sure may  be  much  more  justly  against  his  sea- 
manship than  his  integrity — though  too  few  of 


8  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

us  arc  apt  to  think  so  until  some  sharp  experi- 
ences make  us  more  ready  to  judge  by  kinder 
rules. 

Mr.  Coleman  commenced  business,  origin- 
ally, with  a  small  capital,  and  went  on,  pru- 
dently, for  a  number  of  years,  gradually  accu- 
mulating property,  and  coming  into  the  self- 
complacent  state  of  a  man  well-to-do  in  the 
world,  who  is  not  troubled  with  many  inordi- 
nate desires.  But,  during  a  season  when  al- 
most everybody  was  beside  himself  on  the  sub- 
ject of  making  a  fortune  in  a  day,  Mr.  Coleman 
was  tempted  beyond  his  depth,  and  came  near 
going  under.  His  losses,  for  him,  were  severe, 
and  for  a  short  time  he  considered  his  case 
hopeless.  Upon  a  careful  investigation  of  his 
affairs,  he  saw  that  if  he  were  to  close  up  his 
business,  he  must  become  a  bankrupt,  and  from 
that  thought  he  shrunk  away  with  an  inward 
shudder. 

"  I  can  and  I  will  rescue  myself!"  he  said, 
with  a  manly  and  honest  sentiment  at  heart. 
"  No  one  shall  point  to  me  and  say — '  There 
goes  Lewis  Coleman,  who  failed  and  cheated 
me  out  of  five  hundred  or  five  thousand  dol- 
lars.' No — no  !  I  have  health  and  a  sound 
mind ;  and  I  will  trust  to  them  to  carry  me 
safely  through." 


BEGINNING    OF    EMBARRASSMENTS  9 

But  Coleman,  like  many  others  in  the  M  orld, 
iras  not  long  in  discovering  that  it  is  much 
easier  for  a  man  to  make  a  slip  than  it  is  to  re- 
cover himself.  The  capital  withdrawn  from 
his  business  by  losses,  had  to  be  supplied  by 
loans  and  accommodations,  temporary  or  per- 
manent, as  the  case  might  be,  and  the  interest 
thereon  deducted  from  his  regular  profits. 
And,  besides,  there  was  now  a  serious  draw- 
back not  brought  into  the  account.  This  was 
the  great  detriment  his  business  suffered  from 
the  diversion  of  a  large  part  of  his  time  and 
thoughts  now  necessarily  taken  up  in  devising 
and  carrying  out  the  ways  and  means  of  raising 
the  money  instantly  needed  to  meet  his  daily 
maturing  paper.  Few  think  of  the  detriment 
arising  from  the  last  mentioned  circumstance, 
yet  it  is  amongst  the  most  serious  any  business 
has  to  encounter,  and  is,  generally,  the  last 
but  most  active  of  all  the  causes  that  unite  to 
destroy  it. 

In  the  overtrading  operations  to  which  allu- 
sion has  been  made,  Mr.  Coleman  lost  thirty 
thousand  dollars,  and  a  large  part  of  this 
amount  he  found  it  necessary  to  supply  by  bor- 
rowing, in  order  to  keep  his  business  in  that 
advance  position  necessary  to  ensure  the  profit 
needed  to  support  a  large  family,  and  make  up 


10  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

for  the  losses  lie  had  unfortunately  sustained 
He  might  have  borrowed  less  and  still  been 
able  to  make  his  payments,  but  then  he  would 
have  been  compelled  to  curtail  at  various  points, 
and,  in  consequence,  diminish  his  profits,  and 
this  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  At  best  the 
profits  would  be  too  light  to  meet  his  wants. 

In  borrowing  the  sum  of  twenty  thousand 
dollars,  which  was  obtained  in  various  ways 
and  from  different  sources,  at  least  two  thou- 
sand dollars  in  interest,  legal  and  illegal,  had  to 
be  paid.  This  was  so  much  taken  from  the 
profits  of  the  business.  Had  the  whole  of  this 
amount  been  obtained  at  a  single  operation, 
and  as  a  permanent  loan,  even  at  the  large  in- 
terest of  ten  per  cent.,  the  expense  thereof, 
though  a  serious  matter  might  not  have  been 
too  heavy  a  burden ;  but  this  was  not  the  case. 
Only  about  five  thousand  dollars  were  in  the 
form  of  a  permanent  loan.  As  for  the  rest, 
all  of  it  was  of  the  most  temporary  character. 
A  small  amount,  by  the  aid  of  friends,  came 
through  bank  ;  about  ten  thousand  dollars  were 
raised  on  his  own  paper,  and  on  the  regular 
bills  received  in  his  business,  at  the  serious  cost 
of  one  per  cent,  a  month.  Other  operations 
ranged  from  one  and  a  half  to  two  and  a  half, 
»nd  even  three  per  cent,  a  month. 


BEGINNING    OF    EMBARRASSMENTS.  11 

The  time  and  thoughts  required  to  make  these 
operations,  ever  ending  still  beginning,  occu- 
pied, daily,  the  best  portion  of  his  business 
hours,  and,  of  necessity,  nearly  all  the  details 
of  business  were  left  to  his  clerks.  They  could 
sell  when  customers  came  in  if  they  had  the 
right  kind  of  goods  to  offer ;  but  the  interest 
they  felt  in  what  they  were  doing  went  little,  it 
any,  further.  Abuses,  detrimental  to  their 
employers,  sprung  up  ;  but,  if  he  could  not 
see  them,  no  one  felt  called  upon  to  enlighten 
him.  But  this  was  not  all ;  there  was  a  great  fall- 
ing off  in  the  buying  department,  and  hundreds 
of  dollars  went  to  other  stores  that  would  have 
been  left  at  Coleman's,  if  the  assortment  ot 
goods  there  had  been  as  extensive  and  choice 
as  before.  The  reason  of  this  lay  in  the  diversion 
of  Mr.  Coleman's  mind  from  regular  business 
by  the  necessity  which  compelled  him  to  spend 
half  of  his  time  and  attention  in  raising  money 
to  meet  his  payments.  Neglect  of  his  accounts 
came,  also,  as  a  natural  result  of  the  causes 
producing  a  neglect  of  other  parts  of  his  busi- 
ness, and  hundreds,  even  thousands  of  dollars 
were  left  outstanding  that  might  have  been  col 
lected,  and  thus  been  made  to  take  the  place  ol 
money  borrowed  at  an  exorbitant  price. 

All  these  causes  combined,  produced  more 


12  DEBTOR    AN'.    CREDITOR. 

serious  embarrassments,  and  those,  by  turning 
the  thoughts  of  Coleman  still  more  and  more 
away  from  his  business,  led  on  to  those  which 
were  greater,  and  made  the  ultimate  result  still 
more  certainly  disastrous. 

There  were  seasons  when  Colenian  would 
pause,  and  with  desperate  resolution,  make  a 
few  hurried  estimates  from  which  to  deduce  the 
probable  result  of  his  business.  His  nights  were 
generally  sleepless  for  some  time  afterwards  ; 
or,  rather,  his  sleep  was  so  troubled  and  broken 
that  the  morning  found  him  unrefreshed.  Such 
deductions  were  far  from  being  flattering  to  his 
hopes.  They  showed  every  thing  to  be  in  a 
worse  condition  than  he  had  supposed  ;  and  yet, 
ndt  so  bad  as  the  reality  ;  for,  the  estimates 
being  all  hurried,  were,  of  course,  crude  and 
very  defective. 

"  If  I  had  but  possessed  the  resolution  to 
stop  and  face  this  difficulty  long  ago,  when  my 
hands  were  not  tied  as  they  are  now,  oh  !  how 
much  better  it  would  have  been,"  he  would 
say,  often,  on  such  occasions.  "  But  now ! 
No — no  !  I  cannot  stop  now  !" 

With  little  hope,  and  much  despondency, 
Lewis  Coleman  kept  pressing  on,  getting  more 
and  more  deeply  involved  at  every  step.  He 
felt  that  it  was  so,  yet,  with  a  sort  of  blind  con- 


THEIR    PROGRESS.  13 

fidencc  in  some  favorable  turn  of  fortune,  went 
forward  day  after  day  and  month  after  month, 
borrowing  from  one  friend  to  pay  another,  and 
trying  to  prevent  a  suspicion  of  the  real  state 
of  his  business  from  getting  abroad,  by  speak- 
ing to  almost  every  one  he  met  of  the  many 
profitable  operations  he  was  constantly  making. 
Many  were  deceived  by  such  statements  ;  and 
he  made  them  so  repeatedly  and  from  such  a 
confirmed  habit,  that,  when  he  did  not  reflect 
upon  the  too  serious  reality,  he  more  than  half 
believed  them  himself. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THEIR    PROGRESS. 

THUS,  for  some  years,  Coleman  went  on,  ac- 
tually losing  ground,  all  the  while,  at  a  most 
serious  rate.  For  a  large  part  of  the  time  he 
was  in  a  state  of  mind  altogether  unfitting  him 
for  a  proper  attention  to  business.  But,  not  a 
creditor  or  friend  suspected  the  truth.  He 
could  still  buy  as  freely  and  upon  as  long  a 
time  as  ever,  and  this  led  him  into  still  greater 
2 


14  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

difficulties  by  tempting  him  to  make  heavier 
operations  in  the  hope  of  getting  larger  profits. 
An  unsafe  course  under  any  circumstances  with 
limited  capital,  it  was  ruinous  for  him  ;  for  the 
larger  his  operations,  under  his  system  of  ne- 
glecting the  main  interests  of  his  business  in 
order  to  raise  money  for  immediate  use  in  pay- 
ing his  regular  notes,  accommodations,  and  tem- 
porary loans,  the  more  deeply  must  he  of 
necessity  involve  himself. 

Nothing  is  more  palpable  than  this  to  a 
looker  on  who  sees  every  thing  without  feeling 
any  thing.  But  men  situated  as  Coleman  was, 
seem  cursed  with  a  strange  blindness  to  the  real 
truth  of  their  positions,  and  plunge  on,  involving 
themselves  deeper  and  deeper  at  every  step, 
until  at  last,  they  sink  in  hopeless  ruin. 

About  a  year  before  Coleman's  failure  to 
meet  his  payments,  which  resulted  in  an  entire 
destruction  of  his  business,  he  commenced 
greatly  increasing  all  his  operations.  Hereto- 
fore his  annual  sales  were  about  eighty  thou- 
sand dollars.  He  now  pushed  them  to  above 
a  hundred  thousand,  and  set  down,  in  his 
mind,  the  gross  profits  at  twenty  per  cent.  For 
losses  of  various  kinds,  and  for  store  expenses, 
he  allowed  ten  per  cent.  Then  deducting  three 
thousand  dollars  for  the  cost  of  maintaining,  his 


THEIR    TROGKESS  15 

family,  he  had  seven  thousand  dollars  for  hia 
annual  profits,  which  he  vainly  flattered  him- 
self would  soon  place  him  beyond  the  difficul- 
ties that  surrounded  him. 

There  was  scarcely  any  time  during  that  last 
and  most  disastrous  year  that  Coleman  did  not 
affirm,  whenever  it  camo  in  his  way  to  do  so, 
that  his  business  was  netting  him,  after  deduct- 
ing his  store  and  family  expenses,  from  seven 
to  ten  thousand  dollars.  Everybody  believed 
this,  and,  a  little  strange  to  say,  Coleman  al- 
most believed  it  himself — though  it  was  with 
fear  and  trembling. 

"  If  I  can  only  stand  it  a  year  or  two  longer, 
all  will  be  well,"  he  would  say  to- himself,  as 
he  struggled  along.  And  then  he  would  make 
some  new  effort  to  sustain  himself. 

At  last,  as  his  bills  for  the  heavier  purchases 
of  this  year  began  to  fall  due,  he  found  that  he 
must  raise,  by  some  means,  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars,  or  it  would  be  impossible  to  keep  afloat. 
How  to  raise  this  was  the  grave  and  important 
question,  more  easy  to  ask  than  to  answer. 
But,  along  familiarity  with  money -raising  ope- 
rations, made  him  acquainted  with  various  mo- 
ney-raising means  unknown  to  the  uninitiated. 

After  thinking  over  the  matter  for  several 
days,  Mr.  Coleman  wont  one  morning  to  see  a 


J6  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

very  respectable  individual,  leading  a  retired 
life,  engaged  in  no  business,  but  reputed  to  be,  as 
he  was,  a  man  of  fortune.  This  person's  name 
was  Everton.  Coleman  knew  him  very  well. 

"  I  want  an  accommodation  from  you,"  ho 
said,  on  meeting  Everton. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  inquired  the  person  ad- 
dressed. 

"  I  want  to  raise  about  twenty- five  thousand 
dollars." 

"  Well." 

"  For  which  sum  I  want  to  get  your  notes, 
at  the  usual  interest  of  one-half  per  cent  a 
month,  which  you  receive  on  operations  of  this 
kind." 

"  So  much  as  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  r" 
said  Everton. 

"  Yes.  My  business  is  rapidly  extending, 
and  I  want  to  keep  pace  with  it.  This  year  I 
shall  make  a  profit  of  at  least  twenty  thousand 
dollars,  which  I  think  very  good." 

"Oh  yes!  that  will  do  very  well.  What 
security  have  you  to  offer  ?  I  need  not  tell  you 
that  I  never  lend  my  credit  to  any  one  without 
the  most  ample  security." 

Coleman  looked  a  little  serious. 

"  I  have  neither  real  estate,  nor  stocks  ;  for 
I  have  preferred  keeping  what  I  made  in  my 


THEIR    PROGRESS.  17 

businoss,"  lie  replied  to  this.  "  But  I  will  tell 
you  what  I  propose  to  do.  It  is  this — to  give 
you  my  notes  for  fifty  thousand  dollars  with  a 
private  understanding  that  after  I  have  lifted 
one-half,  the  others  are  to  be  returned  to  me. 
This,  you  see,  will  make  you  perfectly  secure, 
for  in  the  event  of  any  disaster  happening  to 
my  business,  which  I  don't  of  course  fear,  it 
will  give  you  a  claim  of  fifty  thousand  dollars 
on  my  estate  to  cover  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars  actually  due  ;  and  it  would  be  a  despe? 
rate  state  of  affairs  indeed,  that  didn't  yield 
fifty  cents  on  the  dollar." 

To  this  proposition  Everton  shook  his  head. 
That,  he  said,  was  an  unusual,  and  he  believed, 
an  unsafe  way  of  doing  business.  If  Coleman 
had  any  sufficient  and  tangible  security  to  offer, 
he  would  not  refuse  to  accommodate  him  ;  but 
unless  he  had,  h'e  would  not  lend  him  his  notes. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  offer  but  the  stock  in  my 
store,  that  varies  from  forty  to  sixty  thousand 
dollars,"  said  Mr.  Coleman. 

Everton  sbook  his  head  and  replied — 

"  Bad  security." 

"  Not  bad  for  a  sum  like  twenty-five  thou- 
sand dollars." 

"  I  think  so." 

"  Say  twenty  thousand."     Coleman  was  di«k 


18  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

posed  to  press  this  matter,  for  it  was  clear  to 
him  that  unless  he  could  get  the  sum  he  wanted, 
he  must  inevitably  be  driven  to  the  wall ;  and 
equally  clear  that  if  he  could  get  it,  all  would 
be  safe. 

But  Everton  shook  his  head.  He  did  not 
like  to  have  anything  to  do  with  such  security 
as  Coleman  offered.  His  usual  mode  of  doing 
business  was  this  :  Being  a  man  of  large  pro- 
perty his  credit  was  good,  and  therefore  his 
uptes  could  always  be  used.  Knowing  this, 
many  persons  were  in  the  habit  of  going  to 
him  and  getting  his  notes  for  a  certain  amount, 
say  five  thousand  dollars  and  giving  their  own 
in  exchange,  to  fall  due  one  or  two  days  before 
his  note.  For  this  loaning  of  his  credit  he 
charged  the  regular  interest  of  one  half  per 
cent,  a  month,  and  required  security  that  could 
be  made  immediately  available  :  such,  for  in- 
stance as  state  or  Bank  stocks  ;  and  this  se- 
curity must  be  double  in  amount  to  the  paper 
loaned,  unless  it  was  of  the  most  solid  charac- 
ter. In  this  way,  without  either  using  or  risk- 
ing a  dollar,  Everton  was  making  his  ten  thou- 
sand dollars  a  year,  besides  what  his  real  estate 
produced  him,  which  was,  in  itself  a  large  in- 
come. 

Coleman  went  away,  on  finding  that  Everton 


THEIR    PROGRESS.  19 

was  iii  no  way  dispossd  to  accommodate  him 
unless  he  could  offer  a  different  kind  of  se- 
curity ;  but  he  had  been  so  sanguine  of  getting 
the  sum  he  wanted  from  this  source,  and  had 
built  so  much  upon  it,  that  the  disappointment 
threw  him  completely  on  his  back,  and  forced 
from  him  this  admission,  though  made  only  to 
himself — 

"  If  I  don't  get  assistance  from  Everton,  I 
am  lost ;  for  it  is  imposible  to  push  ahead  this 
immense  weight  of  accommodation.  Two 
thirds  of  my  time  is  spent  in  mere  money- 
raising,  to  the  neglect  of  my  business  ;  and  yet 
with  this  great  sacrifice,  I  cannot  get  enough 
to  meet  my  payments  without  the  greatest  ef- 
forts." 

Two  days  afterwards  Coleman  called  upon 
Everton  again. 

"I  think  I  can  satisfy  you  in  the  way  of  se- 
curity," said  he. 

"  If  you  can,  it  will  be  all  right." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I  will  do." 

"  Well." 

"  My  stock  of  goods  at  cash  price,  is  worth 
sixty  thousand  dollars,  and  generally  stands  at 
about  that.  I  will  place  in  your  hands  as  se- 
curity for  your  notes,  a  confession  of  judgment 
covering  this  entire  stock,  to  take  effect  imrne- 


20  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

diately  upon  my  failure  to  pay  my  notes  given 
in  exchange.     How  will  that  do  ?" 

"  I  don't  like  it,"  said  Everton. 

"  It  will  make  you  perfectly  safe." 

"  I  havn't  the  least  doubt  of  that.  But  1 
am  not  used  to  dealing  in  such  securities.  lu 
case  of  anything  happening  to  you,  I  should  be 
compelled  to  sell  you  out,  and  I  would  rather 
not  do  that.  Other  interests  would  suffer,  and 
both  you  and  I  be  blamed." 

"  There  is  no  danger  of  that.  My  business 
is  in  too  sound  a  condition.  If  I  apprehended 
the  selling  out  of  the  security  I  offer,  I  would 
not  give  it,  for  it  would  be  putting  in  one  man's 
hands  the  power  to  injure  all  my  other  credit- 
ors. But  as  I  have  said,  there  is  no  danger  of 
that." 

Still  Everton  was  disinclined  to  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  a  stock  of  goods  as  security 
for  the  loan  of  his  paper.  But  Coleman 
pressed  so  hard,  and  finally  agreed  to  take 
three  notes  of  five  thousand  dollars  each  in  ex 
change  for  his  own  of  the  same  amounts,  gua- 
ranteed by  a  judgment  on  the  entire  stock  in  his 
store,  that  Everton  yielded  to  his  wishes. 

These  three  notes  Coleman  placed  in  the 
hands  of  a  street  broker,  offering  to  let  them 
go  at  two  per  cent,  a  month,  if  no  better  terms 


THXIR    PROGRESS.  2\ 

aouM  be  made.  Money  happened  to  be  very 
scarce  ,  or,  rather,  hard  to  get  from  those  who 
had  it ;  and  after  trying  for  a  day,  the  brokei 
informed  Colemai  that  he  had  not  been  able 
to  get  the  discount  he  wished. 

"  Will  you  go  any  higher  ?"   he  asked, 

"  Higher  than  two  per  cent,  a  month  !" 

"  Yes,  I  saw  some  of  the  best  paper  in  the 
market  sold  to  day  for  three  per  cent." 

"  A  man  had  better  fail  at  once,  than  bo 
shaved  like  that.  He  will  surely  fail  in  the  end. " 

"  That  is,  if  he  continue  to  raise  money  at 
such  a  rate.  But  it  is  not  supposed  that  any 
body  does  much  of  that  kind  of  business.  There 
are  times  when  the  payment  of  a  few  hundred 
dollars  in  an  exorbitant  discount  prevents  a 
failure  ;  and  when  it  does  that,  it  is  anything 
but  a  ruinous  business,  I  should  say." 

"  That's  a  different  thing." 

"  Of  course.  It  isn't  supposed,  for  a  mo- 
ment, that  either  you  or  any  other  business 
man  can  afford  to  pay  even  one  per  cent,  a 
month,  for  all  the  money  he  uses.  Street  rates 
of  discount  are  only  for  extra  and  forced  ope- 
rations." 

"  Do  you  think  you  $an  get  this  paper  done 
tor  two  and  a  half  per  cent.  ?"  asked  Coleman 

"  I  don't  know  ;  but  I  can  try." 


22  DE1JTOR    AND    CREl'lTOR. 

"  I  must  have  five  thousand  to-morrow." 

"  Very  well.  You  shall  have  it  if  I  can 
get  it." 

After  the  notes  were  obtained  and  the  judg- 
ment given  upon  his  stock,  not  over  a  day 
passed  before  Coleman  began  to  feel  a  little 
uneasy.  He  knew  the  character  of  Everton 
very  well,  and  was  perfectly  aware  that  the 
judgment  would  be  closed  without  a  moment's 
delay,  if  he  failed  to  lift  the  notes  he  had  given  ; 
and  this  would  not  only  completely  break  him 
up,  but  would  involve  the  sacrifice,  by  forced 
sale,  of  his  entire  stock,  and  throw  his  other 
creditors  out  of  any  benefit  therein.  But  what 
was  done  could  not  now  be  helped,  and  he  tried 
not  to  let  it  disturb  his  mind. 

"  All  I  have  to  do,"  he  said,  speaking  to 
himself  words  of  encouragement,  "is  to  see 
that  these  notes  are  taken  up,  and  then  if  the 
worst  comes  to  the  worst,  all  will  share  alike." 

On  the  next  day  the  money  broker  called  to 
see  him,  with  the  information  that  he  could  get 
one  of  the  notes  shaved  at  two  and  a  half  per 
cent,  a  month. 

"  Nothing  better  can  be  done,"  said  tho 
man.  "  Money  is  money,  now." 

"  Two  and  a  half  per  cent. !  outrageous 
It  is  no  better  than  robbery  "'  said  Coleman. 


THEIR    PROGRESS. 

"  Call  it  by  what  name  you  will,"  returned 
the  broker,  "  they  can  get  it,  and  they  will 
have  it.  It  is  the  price  of  money  to-day,  and 
they  always  claim  the  highest  price." 

"  I  must  have  it,"  said  Coleman,  with  a 
sigh,  "  and,  therefore,  it  is  of  no  avail  to  stand 
scolding  about  what  can't  be  helped.  Get  the 
money  for  me." 

The  broker  went  out  and  obtained  it  as  de- 
sired. The  note  had  six  months  to  run.  The 
discount,  with  the  broker's  commission  added, 
made  seven  hundred  and  twenty  five  dollars ' 
The  other  two  notes  were  done  at  very  little 
better  rates. 

In  this  operation,  Coleman  got  the  use  of  a 
little  less  than  thirteen  thousand  dollars  for 
six  months,  at  a  cost  of  over  two  thousand 
dollars ;  and  the  relief  obtained  thereby  was 
only  temporary.  In  less  than  two  months  he 
was  as  hard  run  as  ever.  The  thirteen  thou- 
sand dollars  saved  him  from  failure  ;  but  whe- 
ther obtaining  it  as  he  did  was  not  a  greater 
evil  than  would  have  been  a  failure  at  the  time, 
remains  to  be  seen. 

The  sum  obtained  by  means  of  Everton'a 
notes  enabled  him  to  pay  off  a  good  deal  of 
borrowed  money.  When  everything  became 
tight  with  him  once  more,  ho  had  to  go  bacb 


24  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

to  the  old  sources  of  temporary  accommoda- 
tion, and  borrow  again  from  day  to  day  to  meet 
the  daily  wants. 

Thus  he  dragged  along,  until  the  six  months 
were  nearly  ended,  his  heart  more  and  more 
oppressed  with  fear  as  the  due  days  of  the 
notes  given  to  Everton  drew  nearer  and  nearer. 
He  saw  no  prospect  of  taking  up  these  notes, 
yet  everything  depended  upon  its  being  done. 

During  all  this  time,  by  forced  efforts  he 
maintained  among  business  men,  an  exterior 
of  the  most  perfect  composure.  He  made 
purchases  of  heavy  amounts  of  goods  with  the 
air  of  a  man  who  was  giving  instead  of  re- 
ceiving a  favor  ;  and  spoke  with  a  confident  and 
cheerful  air  of  his  business  prospects.  But  at 
home,  alas !  how  was  all  changed.  He  sat  in 
his  family,  a  silent,  oppressed,  and  abstracted 
man  ;  and  often  left  his  bed  at  midnight  to 
walk  the  floor  of  his  chamber,  searching  in  his 
own  troubled  thoughts  for  some  means  of  ward- 
ing off  the  danger  that  was  approaching,  dark 
and  swift-winged  as  a  storm-cloud. 

From  every  available  source,  Coleman  now 
borrowed  money.  One  of  his  clerks  had  saved 
a  thousand  dollars.  He  obtained  the  loan  of 
that.  His  wife's  sister  had  a  couple  of  thou- 
sand dollars  invested  in  the  stock  of  an  insur- 


THE    CRISIS.  25 

»nce  company  that  paid  excellent  dividends. 
It  was  her  all.  At  his  solicitation  she  sold  her 
stock,  and  gave  him  the  use  of  the  proceeds, 
he  agreeing  to  pay  her  ten  per  cent,  per  annum 
In  this  way,  from  persons  who  had  sums  of 
money  lying  by  them,  nor  which  they  had  no 
immediate  demand,  Mr,  Coleman  got  the  use 
of  over  ten  thousand  dollars,  which  was  like 
so  much  capital  placed  in  his  business.  But 
all  would  not  do. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    CRISIS. 

BUT  a  single  month  was  to  intervene  before 
the  notes  given  to  Everton  would  fall  due  ;  but, 
there  was,  yet,  no  provision  for  them,  and  if 
not  taken  up,  all  was  lost.  Poor  Coleman  was 
almost  beside  himself  with  anxiety  and  alarm 
Bitterly  did  he  regret  ever  having  so  badly  put 
in  jeopardy  the  interests  of  others  as  he 
had  done  in  giving  a  judgment  upon  his  stock. 
He  blamed  himself  for  the  act ;  not  in  view  of 
its  destroying  his  business  and  thus  destroying 
3 


26  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

all  his  hopes  in  life,  but  in  view  of  the  losses 
others  would  sustain.  In  the  anguish  of  hia 
mind,  he  forgot  himself  and  his  family,  and 
looked  only  to  others  who  were  to  be  sufferers 
at  his  hands. 

"  But  I  cannot  let  all  go  without  a  struggle  !'? 
he  said,  arousing  himself  up  from  a  state  of  ab- 
ject despondency  into  which  he  had  fallen  one 
night  after  the  sustaining  excitements  of  the 
day  were  over.  "  I  must  notletallgo  without  a 
struggle  !  Everton  will  sweep  my  entire  stock 
if  his  notes  lie  over,  and  sacrifice  at  least  fifty 
thousand  dollars  worth  of  goods  to  get  his  fif- 
teen thousand.  Why  was  I  ever  so  mad  as 
to  put  myself  thus  in  his  power  ?  I  had  no  right 
to  do  it,  and  yet  I  thought  it  was  for  the  best. 
I  believed  that  with  the  sum  to  be  raised  through 
him,  I  could  go  on  smoothly  and  safely.  But, 
how  bitterly  have  I  been  disappointed.  It  is 
now  plain  that  I  ought  to  have  closed  up  my 
business  two  or  three  years  ago,  instead  of  strug- 
gling on  in  contention  with  every  disadvantage, 
and  getting  deeper  and  deeper  into  difficulties 
all  the  time." 

"  Yes,  something  must  be  done !"  he  re- 
eumed,  after  a  pause.  "  This  sacrifice  cannot 
oe  made  " 

The  mind  of  Coleman,  exsited  to  a  consido- 


THE    CRISIS.  27 

ration  of  the  ways  and  means  of  overcoming 
the  difficulties  of  his  position,  dwelt  earnestly 
upon  the  subject  for  nearly  the  whole  night. 
The  conclusion  to  which  he  arrived  was,  that 
failure  at  an"  early  day,  had  become  inevitable, 
but  that,  in  order  to  save  his  stock  from  being 
swept  off  and  sold  at  one  third  of  its  value  to 
satisfy  the  judgment  that  hung  over  it,  some 
extraordinary  financiering  efforts  would  have  to 
be  made,  and  his  mind  had  a  dim  foreshadow- 
ing of  what  they  would  be. 

One  suggestion  that  had  obtruded  itself  dur- 
ing this  night  of  anxious  solicitude  and  enquiry, 
was  to  call  a  meeting  of  creditors,  state  the  dif- 
ficulty he  was  in  and  confess  judgment  to  all, 
so  as  to  place  all  on  an  equal  footing  with 
Everton.  But  this  was  rejected,  for  it  in- 
volved so  direct  a  violation  of  good  faith  with 
a  creditor,  that  his  sense  of  honor  would  not 
permit  him  to  do  it.  He  next  thought  of  re- 
moving at  least  half  of  his  stock  of  goods,  be- 
fore the  judgment  could  take  hold  of  them. 
But  he  felt,  in  regard  to  that,  as  he  did  in  the 
matter  of  the  first  suggestion,  and  turned  away 
from  it. 

The  final  conclusion  upon  which  he  settled 
down,  after  pondering  the  subject  for  two  days, 
was  thus  :  to  raise  the  money  necessary  to  meet 


28  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITCR. 

the  notes  given  to  Everton,  by  purchasing  sta 
pie  and  fashionable  goods  from  the  various 
houses  with  which  he  dealt,  and  sending  them 
for  immediate  sale,  to  auction  and  commission 
merchants  in  two  or  three  of  the -neighboring 
cities.  The  loss,  he  reasoned,  would  not  bo 
a  great  deal,  and  the  proceeds  would  enable 
him  to  pay  off  Everton  and  thus  cancel  tho 
judgment. 

Whether,  viewed  in  the  abstract,  the  morali- 
ty of  this  course  was  any  better  than  the  mo- 
rality of  those  he  had  rejected,  the  reader  must 
decide  for  himself.  When  a  man  gets  involved 
in  difficulty  through  a  wrong  step,  the  steps 
he  takes  to  get  out  of  that  difficulty  are  too 
often  along  the  same  path  by  which  he  got 
into  it. 

Immediately  upon  deciding  upon  what  he 
would  do  Coleman  set  about  the  doing  of  it. 
He  purchased  from  the  various  houses  with 
which  he  dealt,  packages  of  goods  that  he  did 
not  want  for  his  own  sales,  and  had  them  deli- 
vered at  his  store.  These  were  sent  off  to  other 
cities  with  directions  to  have  them  sold  imme- 
diately and  the  cash,  in  good  negotiable  paper, 
obtained  thereon. 

Among  those  of  whom  Coleman  purchased 
freely  for  these  operations,  was  a  merchant 


THE    CRISIS.  29 

named  Erastus  Turner.  He  was  known  in  bu- 
'..I^ess  circles  is  a  hard  man  towards  the  unfor- 
tunate, and  generally  disposed  to  attribute 
fraud  in  all  cases  of  failure.  It  so  happened  that 
this  man  had  business  in  Baltimore  with  a  com- 
mission house  to  which  Coleman  had  consigned 
ten  packages  of  goods  bought  at  his  store,  and 
it  so  happened  that  he  saw  these  goods  there, 
knew  them,  and  instantly  suspected  that  some- 
thing was  wrong. 

"  Some  of  Coleman's  goods,"  he  said,  in  an 
indifferent  way,  laying  his  hand  with  affected 
carelessness  upon  a  package  near  which  he  stood. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  commission  merchant, 
almost  as  indifferently. 

"  They  are  fine  goods,"  said  Turner. 

"  I  believe  they  are." 

"  For  auction  sales,  I  suppose  r" 

"  Yes." 

"  Money  is  a  little  tight  with  us  just  now. 
I  suppose  Coleman  finds  it  necessary  to  force 
off  some  of  his  stock.  It  is  better  to  do  this,  1 
think,  than  to  pay  an  exorbitant  interest  on 
money." 

"  So  do  I." 

"  Do  you  realize  the  cash  for  him  ?" 

"  Yes.  He  must  have  cash,  on  good  en- 
dorsed paper." 

3* 


SO  DELTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

Turner  tlid  not  like  the  appearance  of  all  this. 
At  another  commission  store  he  saw  more 
goods  that  Colcnian  had  bought  of  him,  and, 
on  enquiring  the  price  which  had  been  obtained 
for  similar  goods  found  them  ten  per  cent, 
lower  than  the  rates  at  which  he  had  sold. 

By  the  next  train  of  cars  he  returned  home, 
and  on  his  arrival,  called  immediately  upon 
Coleman.  He  introduced  the  subject  upon 
which  he  desired  information,  in  this  abrupt 
manner. 

"I  saw  the  goods  you  bought  from  me  last 
week,  at  a  commission  store  in  Baltimore  to 
which  you  had  sent  them  for  sale  at  auction. 
What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  Mr.  Coleman  ?" 

Words  so  unexpected,  found  Coleman  un- 
prepared to  hear  them.  He  turned  pale,  looked 
dreadfully  alarmed,  and  stammered  out  some 
incoherent  reply. 

"  This  looks  like  fraud,  sir  !"  said  Turner, 
with  a  severe  aspect  and  tone. 

A  bright  flash  burned  in  the  cheek  of  Cole- 
man  at  the  word  fraud ;  but  he  commanded 
himself  by  a  great  effort,  and  replied,  with  some 
firmness  and  composure. 

"  When  I  fail  to  pay  my  bills,  sir,  it  will  be 
time  enough  for  you  to  talk  of  fraud." 

"  How  do  you  expect  to  pay  the  bills,  if  you 


THE    CRISIS.  31 

force  ray  goods  off  for  cash  at  from,  ten  to  twen« 
ty-five  per  cent,  below  cost  prices." 

"  I  don't  do  it," 

"  But,  I  have  certain  information  that  yoti 
have  done  it." 

"  You  have !" 

"  Certainly  I  have.  My  goods  are  in  the 
hands  of  more  than  one  Baltimore  house,  and  I 
have  learned  the  prices  at  which  tKey  have  been 
sold.  So,  it  is  useless  to  attempt  any  disguise 
with  me." 

Coleman  stood  confounded  for  some  moments. 
He  then  said — 

"  I  know,  Mr.  Turner,  that,  to  you,  this 
matter  must  look  very  bad.  But  I  can  assure 
you,  that,  nothing  could  be  farther  from  my 
thoughts  than  to  wrong  any  one.  An  unusual 
demand  for  money  has  caused  me  to  adopt  an 
unusual  expedient  for  supplying  it." 

"Bad?  Look  bad?  Yes,  it  looks  very  bad, 
Mr.  Coleman  !"  replied  Turner.  "  Very  bad 
indeed !  Buy  large  quantities  of  goods  on  time, 
and  send  them  off  to  other  cities  to  be  sold  at 
auction  !  Who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing?" 

"  And  yet,  sir,  it  has  been  done  with  no  pur- 
pose of  fraud.  This,  let  me  again  assure  you," 
eaid  Coleman,  looking  anxious  and  alarmed. 

"  That  may  all  be  so,  sir.     But  it  look* 


82  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

bad  —  very  bad ;    and    calls    for    investiga- 
tion." 

"  Oh  sir,"  said  the  debtor  in  a  voice  of  en- 
treaty, "  don't  think  for  an  instant  of  divulging 
what  has  come  to  your  knowledge.  It  would  in- 
stantly destroy  my  credit,  and  involve  me  in 
certain  ruin.  Keep  your  own  secret,  and  it 
will  be  better  for  you  and  all  concerned." 

Turner  thought  for  some  time. 

"  I  will  keep  my  own  secret,''  he  at  length 
said,  "  but  only  on  one  condition." 

"  What  is  it  ?"  asked  Coleman. 

"  Lay  before  me  a  statement  of  your  affairs 
minute  in  every  particular.  If,  upon  a  care- 
ful examination,  I  see  that  it  is  best  for  you  to 
go  on,  I  will  not  betray  what  has  come  to 
iny  knowledge." 

After  reflecting  upon  this,  hurriedly,  for  some 
moments,  Coleman  replied. 

"  Give  me  some  hours  to  think." 

Turner  bowed  assent. 

"  Will  you  call  here  to-night,  after  my  store 
is  closed  ?" 

"  I  will.     Say  eight  o'clock." 

"  Very  well.  By  that  time  I  will  be  pre- 
pared to  give  you  satisfactory  information 
touching  my  own  business,  and  your  interests 
as  connected  therewith." 


THE    CRISIS.  33 

"  Oh,  tliat  I  had  possessed  the  courage  long 
ago  to  have  called  my  creditors  together !" 
said  Colenian,  to  himseli  so  soon  as  he  was 
alone.  "  How  simple  and  easy  to  be  compre- 
hended, would  all  have  been  three  years  ago — 
how  complicated  and  hard  to  be  understood 
now.  How  madly  have  I  acted  !  How  plainly 
will  fraud  be  apparent  to  almost  every  eye ! 
And  yet,  Heaven  knows,  I  have  not  sought  to 
to  wrong  any  one  ;  but  only  to  save  others,  and 
keep  my  own  good  name.  Now  both  must  suffer. 

There  was  one  man,  in  whose  judgment  Cole- 
man  had  great  confidence.  He  was  a  creditor  and 
a  warm  personal  friend.  His  name  was  Hart- 
well.  After  thinking  for  some  hours  over  his 
affairs,  and  getting  more  and  more  bewildered 
in  his  own  mind,  Coleman  at  last  came  to  the 
wise  conclusion  to  go  to  this  man,  and  aftci 
telling  him  all,  seek  his  advice  and  follow  it 

When  Hartwell  heard  his  statement,  he  was 
truly  amazed.  He  had  supposed  his  affairs  to 
be  in  the  most  prosperous  condition. 

"  How  could  you  have  gone  on  so  blindly !" 
he  said  with  some  severity. 

"  Don't  chide,  but  counsel  me  !"  returned 
the  unhappy  man  in  so  distressed  a  voice,  that 
his  friend's  first  surprise  and  displeasure  gave 
wav  to  a  feeling  of  commiseration. 


34  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOH. 

"  1  am  almost  afraid  that  it  is  too  late  for 
counsel  to  be  of  any  avail.  Your  errors  have 
been  of  too  serious  a  nature." 

"  Great  losses,  all  around,  I  know  must  oc- 
cur, in  any  event.  But,  even  at  this  posture 
of  my  affairs,  there  is  a  right  way  to  take  as 
well  as  a  wrong  way.  I  have  trusted  in  my 
own  judgment  so  long,  and  been  led  so  far 
astray  by  it,  that  I  no  longer  dare  confide  in 
its  conclusions.  Let  your  cooler  perceptions 
guide  me." 

"  Had  I  not  better  be  present  at  your  inter- 
view with  Turner  to-night. 

u  8y  all  means." 

*  Make  out  some  kind  of  a  statement  of  your 
affairs,  in  order  that  we  may  have  something 
definite  before  us.  I  will  see  that  no  precipi- 
tate action  is  forced  by  Turner,  if  any  good  is 
to  come  from  temporary  delay." 

On  that  evening,  Coleman,  Turner  and 
Hartwell  met.  The  statement  which  the 
debtor  made  proved  very  unsatisfactory,  and 
showed  his  affairs  to  be  in  a  most  desperate 
condition. 

"  And  with  these  facts  before  your  eyes," 
eaid  Turner,  indignantly,  after  he  understood 
the  exact  state  of  Coleman's  affairs,  "you  come 
to  my  store  and  buy  five  or  BIX  thousand  dol- 


THE    CRISIS,  35 

lars'  worth  of  goods,  ship  them  to  Baltimore 
and  sell  them  for  cash  at  a  heavy  loss  !  D» 
you  call  that  an  honest  transaction,  and  your- 
self an  honest  creditor  ?" 

"  But  consider,"  interrupted  Hartwell,  "  the 
object  in  view." 

"  Object  in  view  !  Is  it  honest  to  rob  ono 
man  to  pay  another  ?" 

"  That  is  calling  the  act  by  too  hard  a 
name." 

"  No  sir.  It  is  the  right  name.  It  is  rob- 
bery, sir,  and  nothing  else  ;  and  ought  to  send  a 
man  to  the  State's  prison." 

"  Let  me  beg  of  you  to  look  at  this  matter 
more  calmly,"  urged  the  friend  of  Coleman. 
"  Such  language  as  you  use  never  does  any 
good,  and,  in  the  present  instance,  is  directly 
unjust.  Any  one  can  easily  see,  that  no  fraud 
was  intended  here." 

"  It's  more  than  I  can,  then." 

"I  will  not  bear  these  imputations!"  ex- 
claimed Coleman,  unable  to  hold  in  check  his 
enraged  feelings.  "  They  are  false  !  And  I 
will  prove  them  so." 

"  Such  proofs  would  be  pleasant  to  see,"  re- 
ported Turner  with  a  sneering  expression. 

Maddened  by  such  language,  Coleman  was 
about  replying  in  accordance  with  his  feel- 


Sfi  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

tugs,  when  Hartwell  restrained  him,  and,  at  tho 
jatue  time  demanded  of  Turner  a  different  ac- 
tion in  a  matter  where  so  much  money  was  at 
stake.  It  was  some  time  before  Turner  could 
be  brought  to  act  even  decently ;  his  position 
of  creditor  in  a  case  where  a  man  had  acted 
with  great  imprudence,  seeming,  in  his  mind,  to 
give  him  a  carte-blanche  for  offering  all  man- 
ner of  indignity  and  insult. 

The  advice  given  to  Hartwell  was  to  the  ef- 
fect, that  Coleman  should  immediately  call  a 
full  meeting  of  creditors,  and  place  his  affairs 
in  their  hands  for  settlement,  thus  securing  to 
each  a  fair  pro  rata  dividend  upon  his  assets. 
Coleman  was  not  prepared  for  this.  There  was 
a  great  deal  of  borrowed  money  that  he  wanted 
to  pay  first,  a  dozen  changes  in  the  aspect  of 
his  rJfairs  that  he  wished  to  make  before  every- 
thing went  out  of  his  hands. 

"  It  is  too  late  to  think  of  that  now,"  said 
his  friend,  after  Turner  had  left  them.  "  You 
cannot  continue  your  business  a  single  day 
without  some  sacrifice  of  the  interests  of  your 
creditors.  Every  dollar  that  you  raise  is  by  a 
forced  and  unnatural  effort,  and  comes  into 
your  hands  seriously  diminished  in  value.  This  • 
ruinous  course  has  been  pursued  long  enough 
under  the  false  vows  which  you  have  taken 


THE    CRISIS.  37 

Kow  that  you  see  more  clearly,  act  up  to  your 
truer  perceptions.  Remember,  that,  being 
hopelessly  insolvent,  the  property  in  your 
hands  is  not  your  own,  and  that  you  have  no 
right  to  sacrifice  one  dollar  of  the  money  be- 
longing to  the  whole,  in  order  to  make  payment 
to  a  few." 

"  But,  if  I  stop,  Everton  will  sweep  the  en- 
tire stock  in  my  store  to  satisfy  the  judgment 
he  holds,  and  thus  injure  my  other  creditors." 

"  If  you  stop  before  your  notes  to  him  are 
due,  ho  will  have  to  come  in  with  the  general 
creditors." 

"  How  so  ?  He  has  a  judgment  that  will 
take  precedence  of  any  that  can  be  obtained." 

"  You  can  confess  other  judgments." 

"  No,  1  cannot." 

"  Why  ?" 

"  It  would  be  wrong." 

"  Wrong  to  put  your  other  creditors  on  a 
par  with  this  one  ?" 

"  It  would  be  wrong  to  violate  the  pledge  I 
gave  him,  when  he  made  me  the  loan,  and  no- 
thing will  tempt  me  to  do  it.  I  have  acted 
wrong,  in  many  things,  by  a  kind  of  blind  im- 
pulse. In  groping  about  in  the  dark,  I  have 
not  been  able  to  find  the  right  way.  But,  be- 
cause I  erred  and  strayed  from  the  true  path 


3S  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

while  in  search  of  it,  shall  I  now  step  aside 
with  my  eyes  open.  No — no.  I  cannot  do 
this.  The  act  was  done  in  good  faith,  and  ] 
will  not  violate  that  faith." 

Hartwell  pondered  this  re£ly  for  some  time, 
and  was  satisfied  that  it  was  dictated  by  a  prin- 
ciple of  integrity  in  Coleman's  mind. 

"  No  matter,"  he  said.  "  Perhaps  you 
ought  not  to  do  so  ;  though  few  of  your  credit- 
ors will  probably  agree  with  you  in  this.  But, 
one  thing  is  clear.  You  are  insolvent  beyond 
the  hope  of  recovery.  That  is  plain." 

"  Alas  !     Too  plain." 

"  And,  therefore,  all  the  property  in  your 
hands  belongs  to  your  creditors  ?" 

;'  Undoubtedly." 

"  And  should  come  under  their  control.  Is 
not  that  also  clear  ?'' 

"  I  suppose  it  is." 

"  Then,  it  seems  to  me,  that  you  cannot 
hesitate  a  moment  about  the  course  you  ought 
to  take .  There  is  but  one  plain  way  before  you. ' ' 

"  What  is  that  ?" 

"  At  once  resign  all  your  effects  into  the 
hands  of  your  creditors,  and  leave  with  them 
the  responsibility  of  sacrifice,  if  any  more  is  to 
be  made.  This  is  simple  justice,  and  your 
mind  cannot  help  seeing  that  it  is  so." 


THE    CRISIS.  39 

"  No  doubt  you  are  right,"  said  Coleman, 
speaking  in  a  tone  of  despondency. 

The  thought  of  letting  all  go,  without  au- 
other  struggle,  hopeless  as  he  knew  such  a 
struggle  would  be,  made  him  feel  sad.  There 
were,  besides,  certain  persons  for  whom  he 
wished  to  provide,  before  he  let  everything  go 
out  of  his  hands.  His  clerk,  his  sister-in-law, 
and  a  dozen  others  to  whom  borrowed  money 
was  owed,  and  who  were  as  little  able  to  lose 
it  -as  they  were,  he  wished  to  see  paid  off  be- 
fore any  arrangement  took  place.  But  the 
discovery  made  by  Turner  had  produced  a 
crisis,  and  he  had  so  exhausted  his  resources, 
that  he  could  not  raise  five  hundred  dollars 
without  borrowing  it  from  some  one.  And  to 
borrow  frem  one  to  pay  over  to  another,  upon 
the  eve  of  a  suspension,  and  with  a  view  there 
to,  had  in  it  so  much  the  appearance  of  wrong, 
that  he  could  not  get  his  own  consent  to  do  so 
His  friend  understood  clearly  his  position,  and 
really  sympathized  with  him  ;  but,  nevertheless, 
earnestly  advised  him  not  to  take  the  responsi- 
bility of  another  step,  for,  let  him  do  as  he 
would,  if  he  attempted  to  hold  on  even  a  day 
longer,  he  would  only  make  bad  worse. 

"  If  I  make  an  assignment,  I  will  stipulate 
that  my  borrowed  money  is  to  be  paid  in  full. 


40  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

Will  you  second  my  wishes  in  this  r"  said 
Coleman. 

"  I  will,  certainly,  so  far  as  the  ordinary 
temporary  loans  which  take  place  between  men 
in  business  are  concerned.  But,  money  bor- 
rowed at  interest  is  a  different  affair ;  it  cornea 
in  the  class  of  regular  business  transactions, 
and  must  go  with  them  " 

"  But  here  are  a  thousand  dollars  duo  my 
clerk.  That,  surely,  ought  to  be  paid." 

"  Was  it  borrowed  on  interest  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  At  what  interest  ?" 

"  Ten  per  cent." 

"  He  has  then,  no  claim  for  a  preference 
over  any  other  creditor.  The  loan  was  not  a 
mere  temporary  accommodation,  for  which  no 
benefit  was  received,  but  comes  under  the  head 
of  a  regular  business  transaction,  and  must  take 
its  chances  with  the  rest." 

"  The  same,  then,  will  hold  good  in  regard 
to  the  little  all  of  my  wife's  sister?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  It  is  hard."  Coleman  was  greatly  dis- 
turbed. 

"  It  is  hard,  certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Hart- 
well.  "  But  there  is  only  one  right  way,  and 
we  should  all  endeavor  to  walk  steadily  therein. 


THE    CRISIS.  41 

and   leave   the   consequences   to   Providence 
You  did  not  mean  to  wrong  these  people. " 

"  Heaven  is  my  witness  that  I  did  not." 

"  And  I  am  sure  they  will  exonerate  you 
from  all  such  intention." 

"  But  that  is  not  the  thing,  Mr.  Hartwell. 
It  is  the  fact  that  they  are  wronged — that  they 
actually  suffer  the  loss.  I  am  not  in  a  state 
of  mind  to  care  much  about  the  imputation  of 
motives,  when  I  see  the  actual  suffering  pro- 
duced by  my  hand.  It  will  be  none  the  less, 
whether  I  designed  to  inflict  it  or  not." 

"  True.  But  you  cannot  help  it  now. 
You  will  suffer  pain  ;  that  is  unavoidable  ;  and 
they  will  suffer  pain.  The  only  thing  left  for 
you,  at  this  extreme  crisis  in  your  affairs  is,  in 
taking  the  few  last  steps  left  you,  to  be  sure 
that  you  take  them  right.  More  cannot  be 
asked." 

Before  parting  that  night,  it  was  settled  that 
Coleman  should  suspend  on  the  next  day,  and 
call  a  meeting  of  his  creditors 


42  DEBTOR    ANI>    CREDITOR. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    FAILURE. 

THE  family  of  Mr.  Coleman  consisted  of  Lis 
wife  and  five  children.  Maria,  his  eldest  child 
was  in  her  twentieth  year.  Henry  was  seven- 
teen ;  and  the  others  were  quite  young. 

Mr.  Coleman  was  domestic  in  his  feelings 
and  habits,  and  very  much  attached  to  his  fami- 
ly. Of  his  daughter  Maria,  who  was  a  lovely 
girl,  he  was  exceedingly  fond  ;  and  proud  of 
her  besides.  Her  education  had  been  most 
carefully  conducted ;  and  her  mind  being  rather 
above  the  common  order,  she  was,  even  at  the 
early  age  of  twenty,  a  woman  of  fine  attain- 
ments, and  promised  to  become  a  brilliant 
ornament  in  the  higher  and  more  intellectual 
circles.  As  we  said,  her  /father  was  proud  of 
her  and  well  he  might  be. 

Henry  Coleman  was  at  Yale  College,  whero 
he  had  been  for  a  little  over  six  months,  having 
entered  upon  a  four  years'  course  of  studies. 
He  was  a  young  man  of  the  first  abilities,  and 
his  father,  looking  to  his  adoption  of  one  of  tho 
learned  professions,  was  educating  him  with 


THE    FAILURE.  43 

that  end  in  view.  The  three  younger  children 
were  all  at  school. 

This  was  the  aspect  of  Mr.  Coleman's  do- 
mestic affairs  when  he  found  himself  involved 
in  difficulties  from  which  there  was  no  extrica- 
tion. On  parting  with  his  friend  Hartwelli 
after  the  long  conference  they  had  held  upon 
the  state  of  his  business,  he  turned  his  steps 
and  his  thoughts  homeward. 

In  the  great  anxiety  he  had  felt  to  maintain 
his  credit  and  carry  through  his  business,  Mr. 
Coleman's  thoughts  did  not  often  refer  to  the 
changes  that  must  take  place  at  home,  in  case 
all  efforts  to  sustain  himself  should  prove  un- 
availing. But,  now,  the  struggle  was  over,  hia 
last  effort  had  been  made — hope  was  at  an  end — 
on  the  next  day  he  would  give  up  all  into  the 
hands  of  his  creditors,  and,  with  a  blasted  mer- 
cantile reputation,  be  cast  adrift  upon  the 
world.  It  is  by  no  means  surprising  that  his 
thoughts  turned  anxiously  towards  his  house- 
hold treasures,  the  moment  his  steps  turned 
homeward  ;  now,  that,  for  a  time,  everything 
else,  but  the  consequence  about  to  visit  them, 
was  forgotten.  They  must  go  out  from  their 
pleasant  home,  and  seek  another  in  which  were 
fewer  comforts  ;  they  must  go  down  from  the 
circle  of  refinement  and  intelligence,  so  conge- 


44  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

nial  to  their  taste  and  feelings,  and  take  a  lower 
place.  Maria  could  live  no  longer  where  she 
had  shone,  young  as  she  was,  with  so  much 
brilliancy  ;  and  Henry  must  come  home  from 
College,  and  be  thrust  out  into  the  world,  at  his 
early  age,  all  the  best  hopes  of  his  father,  in 
reference  to  him,  utterly  destroyed. 

It  is  no  matter  of  wonder  that  when  Mr. 
Colcman  entered  the  room  where  his  wife  and 
daughter  were  sitting,  that  both  should  start  in 
surprise  at  seeing  the  expression  of  his  face,  so 
changed  from  what  it  was  when  he  went  out. 

"Are  you  sick?"  anxiously  inquired  Mrs. 
Coleman. 

"  I  don't  feel  very  well,"  he  replied. 

"  What  is  the  cause  of  your  indisposition  ? 
How  do  you  feel  ?" 

These  were  questions  that  Mr.  Coleman 
could  not  answer  very  satisfactorily,  and  he 
therefore  evaded  them  until  he  was  alone  with 
his  wife,  when,  to  her  more  pressing  inquiries, 
he  said — 

"  It  will  do  no  good  to  conceal  from  you  the 
painful  truth,  Anna,  that  all  my  efforts,  for  so 
many  years,  have  been  in  vain.  At  this  time 
of  life,  I  hoped  to  be  in  the  enjoyment  of  a 
handsome  competency.  But,  instead,  I  find 
myself  worse  off  than  when  I  began.  To-mor- 


THE    FAILURE.  45 

row  I  will  be  compelled  to  suspend  payment, 
call  a  meeting  of  creditors,  and  resign  into  the 
hands  of  those  to  whom  I  am  indebted,  all  I  pos- 
sess. If  that  all  would  pay  off  everything  I  owe, 
J  might  not  feel  so  dreadfully  broken  down  in 
spirits  as  I  now  do.  But  it  will  not." 

The  pale  face  and  tremulous  lips  of  her  hus- 
band alarmed  Mrs.  Coleman  even  more  than 
his  words.  She  did  not  understand,  as  fully 
as  he  did,  the  meaning  of  all  he  had  said ;  nor 
were  the  consequences  that  must  inevitably  fol- 
low arrayed  before  her  mind  as  they  stood  ar- 
rayed before  his.  Seeing  him  so  utterly  cast 
down,  she  felt  a  wife's  instinctive  desire  to 
speak  comforting  and  sustaining  words,  and 
she  therefore  said,  although  in  an  unsteady  and 
choking  voice — 

"  Let  us  try  to  bear  misfortune  with  patience 
Prosperity  has  not  elated  us ;  and  we  should 
not  be  unduly  cast  down  by  adversity." 

"  Anna !"  said  Mr.  Coleman  speaking  witl 
emphasis.  "  If  only  you  and  T  were  to  feel 
the  consequences,  we  might  shrink  close  to- 
gether and  bear  the  reverse  in  patience  and 
hope.  But  this  cannot  be.  Our  children  will 
feel  the  change  most.  Maria  will  be  cast  down 
from  her  present  place  in  a  wide  circle  of 
friends  ;  Henry  will  have  to  come  home  from 


46  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

College,  and  go  into  the  world  and  sustain  him- 
self; and  all  will  have  to  become  familiar  with 
things  more  common  and  uncongenial  to  their 
tastes  and  habits.  A  home  like  this,  we  cannot 
have.  When  my  business  passes  from  my 
hands,  I  will  have  no  present  means  of  earning 
a  dollar.  To  resume  business  will  be  impossi- 
ble ;  for  having  neither  credit  nor  capital  left, 
I  cannot  again  enter  into  trade  ;  and  must  be 
content  with  any  kind  of  employment  that 
offers.  It  costs  us  now,  to  live,  three  thousand 
dollars  a  year.  1  will  be  fortunate,  indeed,  if 
I  am  able  to  get  an  income  of  one  thousand 
dollars.  You  see,  how  great  a  change  we  are 
about  to  suffer." 

This  was  presenting  to  the  mind  of  Mrs. 
Coleman,  the  painful  extremity  of  their  situa- 
tion in  a  manner  the  most  distinctly  apprecia- 
ble. 

"  Is  it  so  bad  as  that  ?"  she  said  in  a  low 
quivering  voice,  while  tears  came  piercing  into 
her  eyes. 

"  It  is,  Anna.  I  must  not  conceal  from  you 
the  truth.  But,  in  revealing  it,  I  trust  in  your 
womanly  spirit  to  bear  with  and  sustain  me  in 
the  severe  trials  I  have  yet  to  pass  through — 
trials  that  I  look  at,  and  shrink  from  encoun- 
tering, with  a  paralyzing  fear.  I  am  sure,  that 


THE    FAILURE.  47 

I  could  view  the  approach  of  death  far  raoro 
calmly  than  I  can  the  hour  in  which  I  am  to 
meet  the  creditors  who  will  think  themselves 
wronged,  it  may  be  cheated,  by  a  man  in  whose 
integrity  they  had  fully  confided.  Oh !  It  is  a 
terrible  ordeal  for  a  man  to  pass  through." 

"  But  will  not  a  consciousness  of  integrity 
sustain  you  iu  the  trial  r"  said  Mrs.  Coleman, 
endeavoring  to  jress  down  into  quietude  her 
own  fluttering  heart. 

"  That  is  all  that  can  sustain  me.  But  even 
with  the  consciousness  that  I  meant  to  do  right 
to  give  strength  to  my  shrinking  spirit,  it  will 
be  as  much  as  I  can  do  to  bear  up  under  the 
pressure  that  will  be  upon  me.  There  are  so 
many  things  in  my  business  that  are  open  to 
wrong  construction  ;  and  so  much  is  owed  to 
those  who  cannot  bear  the  loss  without  suffering. 
There  are  the  two  thousand  dollars  owed  to 
your  sister,  for  instance.  The  stoppage  in  my 
business  is  so  sudden  and  unexpected,  that  I 
am  unable  to  make  any  provision  for  her,  and 
she  will  have  to  come  in  with  the  other  credi- 
tors, and  lose,  perhaps,  one  half  of  what  is  duo 
to  her,  it  may  be  more." 

"  Oh  !  I  am  sorry  for  that.  It  is  all  Matil- 
da has  in  the  world,"  said  Mrs.  Coleman  with 
a  troubled  look 


48  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

*'  If  I  had  supposed  that  a  failure  was  so  iiear 
at  hand,  I  would  have  managed,  in  some  way 
to  pay  off  this  claim,  and  several  others  simi- 
larly situated.  But,  now  it  is  too  late." 

"Poor  Matilda!"  For  a  short  time  Mrs 
Coleman  felt  more  deeply  for  her  sister  in  the 
loss  she  must  sustain,  than  she  did  for  herself 
and  family,  in  view  of  the  great  reverse  that 
was  ahout  to  be  visited  upon  them. 

"  And  can  nothing  be  done  for  her  r"  she 
asked. 

"  Nothing,  Anna  !  Nothing.  To-morruw 
everything  must  go  into  the  hands  of  my  credi- 
tors, and  they  will  permit  no  preferences  to  be 
made,  except  in  a  few  cases  of  borrowed 
money  " 

"  This  is  borrowed  money  !" 

"  1  know.  But,  it  is  borrowed  on  interest, 
and  is,  therefore,  considered  in  the  light  of  any 
other  business  transaction." 

"  Why  must  to-morrow  take  from  your  hands 
all  control  over  your  affairs  ?" 

"  For  this  reason.  In  view  of  heavy  pay- 
ments, and  seeing  no  other  means  of  meeting 
them,  I  sent  on  to  Baltimore,  and  also  to  other 
places,  goods  which  I  had  purchased  at  six 
months'  credit,  and  ordered  them  sold  at 
auction  for  c^ah,  or  fcr  what  would  be  equiva- 


THE    FAILURE  49 

lent  to  cash.  This  was  the  oUy  expedient  I 
could  devise  to  meet  a  pressing  demand  for 
money.  Unfortunately,  it  happened  that  Eras- 
tus  Turner,  of  whom  I  had  purchased  freely, 
discovered  this,  and  charged  it  upon  me  as  an 
act  that  looked  so  much  like  fraud  that  he  could 
call  it  by  no  other  name." 

"  Fraud  !  Fraud  in  you  !  Did  he  dare  to 
insinuate  that  ?" 

"  He  did,  and  to  my  face." 

"  Oh  Lewis  !  can  it  be  possible  !" 

"  It  is  too  true,  Anna.  And,  to  a  suspicious 
minded  man,  the  act  might  readily  bear  that 
appearance.  Under  this  aspect  of  things,  I 
called  in  Mr.  Hartwell  for  consultation,  my 
own  mind  being  too  bewildered  to  think  proper- 
ly. After  giving  him  as  clear  a  statement  of 
my  affairs  as  was  possible,  under  the  circum- 
stances, he  satisfied  me  in  a  few  words,  that  I 
could  take  but  one  light  step,  and  that  was  to 
give  up  immediately." 

Before  Mrs.  Coleman  could  make  any  re- 
mark in  reply,  a  servant  tapped  at  the  door. 

"  What  is  wanted?"  asked  Mrs.  Coleman. 

"  There  is  a  gentleman  in  the  parlor  who 
wishes  to  see  Mr.  Coleman." 

"  A  gentleman  at  this  tune  of  night !  Who 
is  it  ;» 

5 


50  DEBTOR    A>       CREDITOR. 

"  His  name  is  Mr.  Turner." 

"Turner!"  said  Mr.  Coleman,  speaking 
m  a  tone  of  surprise,  and  rising  as  he  spoke. 
"  Very  well.  Tell  him  I  will  be  down  in  a 
moment.'1 

"  What  can  he  want  ?"  enquired  Mrs 
Coleman. 

"  To  insult  me  again,  perhaps  ;  or  to  pro- 
pose something  by  which  he  may  be  secured  to 
the  injury  of  others." 

"  Agree  to  no  proposition  of  the  kind, 
Lewis." 

"  I  certainly  shall  not.  Let  my  past  errors 
Buffice." 

And  saying  tin's,  Mr.  Coleman  left  the  room 
and  descended  to  the  parlor,  where  he  found 
Turner.  It  was  nearly  eleven  o'clock  at  night. 
There  was  a  jrreat  change  in  the  creditor.  He 
met  Coleman  with  a  kindness  of  manner 
strongly  contrasting  with  the  harsh  and  accus- 
ing spirit  displayed  but  a  little  while  be- 
fore. 

"  Pardon  this  untimely  visit,"  he  said,  as  he 
extended  his  hand,  and  took  that  of  his  debtor, 
"  but  many  things  have  passed  through  my  mind 
since  I  saw  you  a  few  hours  ago,  and  it  may  bo 
better  to  say  them  to  you  to-night.  From 
what  both  you  ami  Harwell  said,  T  understand 


THE    FAILURE.  51 

that  you  think  of  calling  a  meeting  of  creditors 
to-morrow." 

"  Yes  ;  that  is  my  present  design.1' 

"  But,  will  not  such  a  course  be  precipitate, 
and  throw  your  business  entirely  beyond  your 
control  before  you  have  any  chance  to  make 
at  least  a  few  changes  in  its  present  aspect  ? 
There  are  certain  minor  interests  which  every 
man  wishes  to  protect  before  letting  his  affairs 
go  out  of  his  hands.  Little  matters  of  private 
loans,  made  in  good  faith  ;  and  various  other 
things  needless  to  mention  because  perfectly 
understood.  It  is  so  with  you,  of  course,  for 
it  is  so  with  every  one." 

Coleman  heard  this  with  some  surprise,  be- 
cause it  was  so  unexpected  from  such  a  quar- 
ter. 

"  It  is,  doubtless,  as  I  say,"  added  Turner, 
with  a  smile  meant  to  encourage  his  debtor  to 
epeak  freely. 

"  It  is,  certainly,"  replied  Coleman.  "  But 
I  suppose  it  is  too  late  now  to  think  of  that." 

"  You  may  err  in  this  conclusion  ;  it  is 
never  too  late  to  do  anything,  if  the  proper 
means  be  used." 

"  I'm  afraid  no  proper  means  are  available, 
ij  case." 
Yo-a  are  mistaken,     I  have  the  means  in 


52  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

my  hands  of  closing  up  your  business  almost 
immediately;  but,  if  I  do  not  use  those 
means,  you  need  not  fail  for  some  time  to  corno 
— not  until  you  are  better  prepared  to  meet  the 
disaster  than  you  are  at  present.  No  one,  but 
myself  and  your  friend  Hartwell,  knows  that  you 
have  been  forcing  off  goods,  at  a  loss  for  cash, 
and  no  one  need  know  it." 

Coleman's  mind,  in  spite  of  his  clearer  judg- 
ment, caught  at  these  words  ;  and  he  was  in- 
spired with  the  hope  of  still  moving  on  in  the 
old  way  a  little  longer,  and  getting  into  a  lit- 
tle better  position. 

"  If  you  wish  to  continue  your  business  un- 
til you  make  the  few  arrangements  which  every 
man  naturally  desires  to  make,  it  may  yet  be 
done." 

"  How  r"  asked  Coleman.  "  Or,  rather, 
under  what  provisions  r" 

"  Of  course,"  said  Turner,  blandly,  "  I  have 
not  sought  this  interview  without  some  refer- 
ence to  my  own  interest.  Everyman  looks  to 
that.  You  owe  me  over  six  thousand  dollars, 
and  1  do  not  wish  to  lose  so  large  a  sum." 

"  What  do  you  propose  ?"  inquired  Cole- 
man. 

"  That  you  give  me,  in  the  first  place,  an 
order  on  your  consignees  in  Baltimore  for  all 


THE    FAILURE.  53 

goods  of  mine  in  their  hands,  or,  for  the  proceeds, 
if  sold  ;  which  will  reduce  iny  account  nearly 
fifteen  hundred  dollars.  And  that  you  trans- 
fer to  me,  in  the  second  place,  good  business 
notes  to  an  equal  amount.  You  can  do  this 
and  go  on,  1  suppose,  for  a  few  weeks,  perhaps 
a  few  months  longer,  and  thus  be  enabled  to 
get  all  your  affairs  arranged  more  to  your  lik- 
ing than  they  are  at  present." 

"  By  which  time,"  said  Coleman,  "  nearly 
two  thousand  dollars  due  you  on  maturing 
notes,  will  be  paid." 

"  Yes." 

"  And  my  present  indebtedness  of  six  thou- 
sand dollars  be  reduced  to  about  one  thou- 
sand ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Or,  in  other  words,  you  would  be  paid 
nearly  cent,  per  cent,  of  your  claim  against  me, 
to  the  serious  detriment  of  all  my  other  credit- 
ors. Mr.  Turner !  I  have  been  drawn  aside 
into  many  imprudences  in  my  business  ;  I  have 
done  wrong  in  more  than  one  instance,  but, 
sir  !  before  I  would  be  guilty  of  the  act  you 
tempt  me  to  do,  I  would  hold  my  arm  in  that 
lamp  until  the  flesh  dropped  from  the  bone  !  I 
may,  in  the  bewilderment  consequent  upon  an 
embarrassed  business,  have  done  worse  things 


54  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

than  this,  but  they  wore  not  done  with  my 
eyes  open  as  they  now  are.  No  sir  ;  I  cannot 
do  as  you  propose." 

"  I  will  waive  the  fifteen  hundred  dollars  in 
notes,  if  you  do  not  like  to  do  that,"  said  Tur- 
ner, his  manner  changing  but  slightly. 

"  It  is  impossible.  You  must  now  come  in 
with  the  rest." 

"  Are  you  resolute  in  this  ?"  inquired  Tur- 
ner, the  smile  fading  from  his  countenance,  and 
both  voice  and  eye  expressing  a  threat. 

"  Entirely  so." 

"  Take  my  advice  sir,  and  reconsider  what 
you  say.  Remember,  that  you  are  completely 
in  my  power.  That  I  am  aware  of  certain  of 
your  transactions,  unknown  to  all  but  your 
friend  Hartwell,  which  have  a  very  dark  as- 
pect, and  may  make  it  go  hard  with  you.  If 
you  are  wise,  you  will  give  me  a  sufficient  rea- 
son to  be  silent  whenever  you  come  before 
your  creditors  insolvent." 

There  was  no  misunderstanding  this  threat. 
Coleman  felt  the  force  of  it;  and  he  was 
strongly  tempted  to  purchase  silence  upon  that 
last  indiscreet  transaction — to  call  it  by  no 
worse  name. 

11  Think  well,  before  you  reject  this  over- 
ture," said  Turner.  "  Take  time  to  reflect  bo- 


THE    FULURE.  55 

fore  you  utter  a  final  *  no,'  for  if  you  do  refuse 
to  meet  my  wishes,  by  all  that  is  sacred  !  1 
will  push  you  to  the  utmost  extremity.  In 
the  eyes  of  the  law,  remember,  this  act  of 
yours  maybe  made  to  appear  as  a  crime.  And 
such  it  really  is.  While  you  have  a  chance  of 
escape,  be  wise  and  improve  it." 

The  firm  bearing  of  Coleman  was  at  an  end. 
He  was  again  under  the  influence  of  doubt  and 
irresolution. 

"  Why  do  you  tempt  me  thus  r"  he  said, 
with  a  troubled  look.  "  As  a  man,  why  will 
you  not  have  some  regard  for  a  fellow  man  in 
great  extremity  ?  You  ask  me  to  do  wrong  ?" 

"  I  ask  no  such  thing.  Is  it  wrong  to  pay 
me  what  you  owe  me  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  in  doing  so,  I  give  you  an  undue 
proportion  of  an  insolvent  estate." 

"  While  you  meet  all  your  payments,  you 
have  a  right  to  manage  your  business  as  you 
please." 

"  Then  I  had  a  right  to  send  the  goods  1 
bought  of  you  to  auction ;  and  you  have  no 
right  to  complain." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  but  that  is  another 
thing.  I  deny  your  right  to  do  that.  It  was 
not  honest." 

"  Neither  is  your  proposition  an  honest  one. 


56  DEBTOR    AMD    CREDITOR. 

or,  rather,  I  should  say,  it  is  far  less  honest  than 
that  act  of  mine ;  for  it  comes  from  a  cool  and 
deliberate  purpose  to  get  more  than  you  are 
justly  entitled  to  out  of  my  estate,  while  that 
was  the  result  of  an  error  in  judgment." 

"  Take  ca^e  what  you  say,  Mr.  Coleman.  I 
am  not  used  to  being  talked  to  in  that  way." 

"  Nor  am  I  used  to  having  such  language 
applied  to  my  acts  as  you  have  applied." 

"  Well  sir  !"  said  Turner,  rising  up  sud- 
denly, and  commencing  to  button  up  his  coat. 
"  You  must  do  as  you  please.  I  have  given 
you  a  chance  to  save  yourself  from  the  conse- 
quences of  your  own  acts,  if  you  do  not  think 
proper  to  avail  of  the  opportunity,  you  will 
have  only  yourself  to  blame.  Depend  upon  it, 
if  I  come  into  your  meeting  of  creditors,  you 
will  not  get  much  quarter." 

"  See  here,"  returned  Coleman  to  this,  and 
speaking  more  resolutely  than  he  had  done  ; 
"  bear  in  mind  this  fact,  that  even  an  honor- 
able minded  man  may  be  forced  into  retaliation 
in  order  to  secure  a  just  protection.  I  warn 
you  now,  that  if  you  attempt  anything  like  per- 
secution, I  will  expose  this  interview,  and  show 
how  you  tried,  under  threats,  to  extort  money 
from  me  to  the  injury  of  the  rest.  Remember, 
that  if  1  am  in  your  power,  you  are  also  in  mine. >r 


THE    FAILURE.  57 

This  unexpected  retort  half  maddened  the 
bad-spirited  creditor,  and  he  replied  with  added 
and  more  bitter  threats  of  consequences.  But 
Coleman  saw  clearly  the  one  right  path  before 
him,  and  was  not  now  to  be  turned  from  it  by 
either  threats  or  persuasions. 

"  Then  I  am  to  understand,"  said  Turner, 
pausing  in  the  door,  as  he  made  a  movement 
to  go,  "  that  you  will  not  accede  to  my  propo- 
sition." 

"  Certainly  you  are,"  was  the  firm  reply. 

"  On  your  own  head  rest  the  consequences," 
said  Turner  from  between  his  clenched  teeth. 

"  I  will  try  to  bear  them,"  answered  Cole- 
man, as  he  bowed  with  a  formal  air. 

Turner  lingered  for  an  instant  and  then  left 
the  house,  muttering  a  threat  as  he  did  so. 

Mrs.  Coleman  had  waited,  with  anxious  in- 
terest, the  termination  of  this  interview.  As 
soon  as  her  husband  returned  to  the  room  in 
which  he  had  left  her,  she  inquired  eagerly  as 
to  the  cause  of  the  visit.  Coleman  explained 
the  proposition  of  Turner. 

"  And  you  rejected  it,"  said  his  wife  prompt- 
ly and  indignantly. 

"  I  did.  And  for  this,  he  threatens  me  with 
his  severest  displeasure." 

"  Let  him  do  his  worst.     He  cannot  hurt 


68  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

you  half  so  much  as  it  would  hurt  you  to  do  M 
he  proposed." 

"  No,  not  half  so  much." 

"  I  have  been  thinking,  since  you  were 
away,"  said  Mrs.  Coleman,  "  about  sister. 
That  troubles  me,  and  I  cannot  help  letting  it 
do  so." 

"  And  it  troubles  me,  too ;  but  I  see  no 
help.  She  will  have  to  take  whatever  my  as- 
sets divide." 

"  There  is  a  way  by  which  she  might  be 
paid." 

"How?" 

"  We  will  have  td  live  in  a  style  very  dif- 
ferent from  what  we  at  present  maintain." 

"  Very  different." 

"  We  have  plate,  jewelry,  and  many  things 
in  the  house  that  will  have  to  be  dispensed  with. 
Let  us  sell  these  at  once  and  pay  Matilda  her 
claim." 

For  a  moment  or  two  there  was  a  light  on 
the  countenance  of  Mr.  Coleman.  But  it 
quickly  faded,  and  he  replied  in  a  sad  voice — 

"  We  can't  do  it,  Anna,  and  do  right." 

"  Why  not  ?" 

The  furniture  and  plate  in  my  house,  as  well 
as  the  goods  in  my  store,  alike  belong  to  my 
creditors.  It  would  be  as  unjust  to  sell  the  one 


THE    FAILURE.  59 

&8  the  other  for  special  application  in.  the  pre- 
sent crisis  of  my  affairs." 

Mrs.  Coleman's  head  drooped,  and  her  eyea 
rested  upon  the  floor  for  some  time.  Thea, 
with  a  deeply  drawn  sigh,  she  remarked — 

"  I  suppose  you  are  right." 

Both  were  now  oppressed  and  silent  foi 
many  minutes,  when  Mrs.  Coleman  said — 

"  I  have  been  calculating  the  worth  of  my 
own  jewelry,  and  the  various  articles  I  have 
received  from  you  and  others  as  presents.  1 
make  it  out  to  be  about  a  thousand  dollars,  ai 
a  low  valuation.  Will  you  object  to  having 
these  sold,  and  the  money  they  bring  paid  ovel 
to  Matilda  ?" 

Mr.  Coleman  thought  for  a  good  while  be- 
fore replying.  Theft  he  asked  the  question — 

"  Have  we  separate  interests  ?" 

"  No,"  was  replied.  "  And  yet,  there  are 
some  things  recognised  as  distinctively  mine, 
and  some  things  as  distinctively  yours,  such  aa 
our  clothes,  and  personal  ornaments.  Over 
these,  we  have  a  certain  right  of  disposal  indo- 
pendent,  so  to  speak,  of  each  other." 

"  Does  the  law  discriminate  in  these  in- 
stances ?" 

"  No — but  does  not  common  sense  and  com- 
mon perception  ?" 


60  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

"  Not  clearly  to  my  mind,  in  viow  of  what 
you  propose.  All  we  possess,  is  possessed 
jointly,  and  debts  contracted  by  either  you  or 
me  conie  against  this  joint  possession,  be  it  what 
it  may ;  and  I  do  not  see  how  you  can  make  a 
special  disposition  of  your  jewelry  and  other 
things  distinctively  your  own,  any  more  than  I 
can  of  my  gold  watch  and  diamond  breastpin. 
All  these  are  liable  to  seizure  by  my  creditors, 
and,  therefore,  I  cannot  perceive  that  wo  have 
any  right  to  put  them  beyond  their  reach, 
when  we  know  that  we  are  not  in  a  condition 
to  pay  the  full  amount  of  claims  against  us." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,"  said  Mrs.  Cole- 
man,  again  sighing  deeply.  "  But  it  seems  to 
be  coming  exceedingly  close." 

"  When  a  man  is  in  debt  beyond  his  ability 
to  pay,  he  no  longer  possesses,  of  right,  a  free 
control  over  what  he  calls  his  own.  He  may 
convey  it  away,  or  make  any  disposition  of  it 
he  pleases,  but  whether,  in  doing  so  he  acts 
justly  or  unjustly,  is  a  question  he  must  set- 
tle with  his  own  conscience.  Now  that  I 
am  able  to  see  clearly — which  has  not  be- 
fore been  the  case  for  a  long  time— I  want 
to  act  upon  the  strictest  principles  of  equity, 
and  I  want  you,  Anna,  to  see  and  act  with 
ine,  if  possible.  Of  course,  we  will  neve/ 


THE    FAILURE.  61 

£t  Matilda  want  while  we  have  a  loaf  to  divide 
arith  her.  It  may  be,  that  my  creditors  will 
not  sweep  away  everything.  Some,  more  con- 
siderate than  the  rest,  may  induce  the  others 
to  go  with  them  in  sparing  our  household  goods. 
Should  this  be  the  case,  we  will  be  able  to  do 
what  you  have  proposed.  If  not,  let  me  hope  that 
you  will  meet  with  a  firm  spirit  the  utmost  extre- 
mity to  which  we  may  be  driven.  It  will  make 
the  reverse  easier  to  be  borne  by  all  of  us." 

"I  will  try,"  said  Mrs.  Coleman,  sadly; 
her  voice  and  manner  showing  how  severe,  even 
to  contemplate,  the  trial  was. 

Nearly  the  whole  of  that  night  was  spent  by 
Mr.  Coleman  in  preparing  statements  to  be 
submitted  to  his  creditors  on  the  next  day,  in 
reviewing  his  affairs,  and  in  determining  how 
he  would  act  in  the  various  supposable  aspects 
things  were  likely  to  assume  during  the  investi- 
gations into  his  business  that  were  about  to  take 
place.  He  resolved  to  keep  nothing  back  in 
the  first  statement  made  to  the  creditors ;  thus 
disarming  Turner  to  a  great  extent,  by  avow- 
ing the  acts  upon  which  he  meant  to  base  his 
ill-tempered  persecution.  By  making  the  full- 
est acknowledgments  of  his  errors,  he  saw  that 
he  put  it  out  of  the  power  of  evil  disposed  per- 
se ns  to  charge  them  upon  him  as  crimes.  If 
6 


62  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

Turner's  opposition  assumed  a  shape  likely  to 
do  him  a  serious  injury,  he  deliberately  made 
up  his  mind  to  do  as  he  had  said  he  would— ex- 
pose the  propositions  made  for  a  settlement  of 
bis  claim  as  a  bribe  to  silence. 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE    MEETING    OF    CREDITORS. 

Two  hours  of  deep -yet  unrefreshing  sluu- 
ber  was  all  the  repose  that  blessed  the  mind 
of  Mr.  Coleman.  It  had  been  little  better  with 
his  wife.  Half  of  the  night  was  spent  in  tears. 
Her  first  thoughts  were  with  her  husband,  and 
her  first  impulses  led  her  to  seek  to  sustain  him 
under  his  severe  trials.  But  as  she  lay  upon 
her  pillow,  thinking  about  the  various  conse- 
quences that  must  inevitably  follow  this  great 
reverse  of  fortune,  her  heart  failed  her.  From 
many  of  the  aspects  presented,  she  turned  away 
with  a  fainting  spirit.  The  effect  upon  the  chil- 
dren pained  her  most ;  especially  painful  was  the 
thought  }f  Henry's  coming  home  from  College. 

Day  dawned  drearily  upon  both  ;  and   both 


MEETING    OF    CREDITORS.  63 

arose  with  pale  and  haggard  countenances. 
Marion,  when  the  family  met  at  the  breakfast 
table,  saw  that  her  parents  were  seriously 
troubled  about  something,  and  her  own  heart 
sunk  in  her  bosom.  Deep  silence  prevailed  at 
the  table,  and  none  but  the  younger  children 
did  more  than  taste  food,  and  that  only  for  ap- 
pearance sake. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Coleman  could  retire  from 
the  table  without  seeming  to  go  too  abruptly, 
he  arose  and  left  the  room,  and  in  a  little  while 
after  went  to  his  store.  He  found  Turner 
awaiting  him  with  a  modified  proposition  which 
was,  to  give  him  an  order  for  the  goods  in 
Baltimore  before  mentioned. 

"  If  you  will  do  this,"  he  said,  «  I  will  pledge 
myself  not  to  breathe  a  word  about  a  transac- 
tion that,  if  known,  must  inevitably  create  an 
impression  exceedingly  unfavorable." 

"  It  is  useless,  Mr.  Turner,  for  you  to  ap- 
proach me  on  this  subject,"  Coleman  unhesi- 
tatingly answered.  "  Could  I  feel  justified  in 
doing  what  you  wish,  I  would  not  hesitate  a 
moment ;  but  with  my  present  views,  that  is 
out  of  the  question  I  owe  my  sister-in-law 
two  thousand  dollars,  borrowed  money.  It  is 
her  all.  The  earnest  desire  of  my  wife  to 
have  her  secured  before  the  final  catastrophe 


64  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

which  is  about  to  fall  upon  my  business,  iCmes, 
I  have  not  felt  myself  able  to  meet.  Ste  will 
have  to  come  in  and  share  with  the  rest.  If  I 
would  not  step  aside  from  the  right  way  to  pro- 
tect her,  I  certainly  shall  not  do  it  to  protect 
you." 

"  Coleman  !  Let  me  again  warn  you  not  to 
make  me  your  enemy  in  this  business,  for  if  you 
do  you  will  repent  it  when  repentance  will  be 
of  no  avail." 

"  I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Turner,  that  you  press 
this  matter  upon  me.  Is  it  not  enough  that  I 
have  stated  the  utter  impossibility  of  my  doing 
as  you  propose." 

"  Well,  sir,  as  you  like.  But  you  will  re- 
gret it." 

li  I  may  suffer  from  your  acts,  but  shall  never 
regret  having  refused  compliance  with  your 
wishes." 

"  We  will  see." 

And  Turner  went  away  in  anger. 

During  the  whole  day  Mr.  Coleman  was  en- 
gaged in  completing  statements  of  his  affairs, 
and  in  preparing  notifications  for  his  creditors 
to  meet  at  his  store,  at  eight  o'clock  that  night. 
He  had  frequent  interviews  and  long  consulta- 
tions ^Vfitia.  his  friend  Hartwell,  whose  Bound 
judgment  he  let  influence  him  at  almost  every 


MEETING    OF    CREDITORS.  65 

point  of  his  proceedings.  At  three  o'clock  hia 
notes  were  protested.  He  was  not  at  his  office 
when  the  notary  came.  It  was  a  weakness 
that  prevented  his  meeting  him  ;  but  he  could 
not  help  shrinking  away  from  the  presence 
of  one  whose  very  name  has  sometimes  power 
to  make  the  heart  tremble.  Under  the  influ- 
ence of  feelings  which,  once  suffered,  no  man 
ever  desires  to  experience  again,  Coleman  left 
home  that  evening,  with  the  keys  of  his  store 
in  his  pocket,  and  calling  for  Hartwell,  went  to 
the  appointed  place  of  meeting.  Oh  !  how 
deeply  did  he  regret  the  many  sacrifices  he  had 
made  in  order  to  sustain  himself.  How  vainly 
did  he  mourn  over  his  folly,  in  giving  a  judg- 
ment upon  his  goods,  and  thus  letting  one  man 
have  the  power  of  securing  himself  at  a  great 
loss  to  others.  It  seemed  as  if  every  false 
Btep  he  had  made  for  years  was  coming  back 
to  reprove  him.  The  sufferings  and  self-re- 
proaches of  a  life-time  appeared  crowded  into 
that  single  hour ;  and  he  shrunk  from  the  ordeal 
through  which  he  was  about  to  pass,  as  he  would 
have  shrunk  from  encountering  the  surgeon's 
knife  in  some  terrible  operation. 

With  what  different  feelings  did  the  men  he 
had  summoned  come  up  to  that  meeting  !     A 
few  felt  sympathy  for  the  unfortunate  debtor, 
6* 


66  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

though  they  had  no  true  conception  of  what  he 
was  suffering;  but  the  majority  came  with 
minds  eagerly  bent  on  saving  what  they  could 
from  the  wreck  of  a  fellow-merchant's  fortunes. 
One  man  cursed  the  intractable  debtor  in  his 
heart,  and  came  firmly  resolved  to  show  him 
no  quarter  ;  another  was  trembling  in  fear  lest 
he  should  lose  a  few  thousands,  although  he 
was  the  possessor  of  hundreds  of  thousands  ; 
another  was  satisfied  that  there  must  be  some- 
thing wrong — fraud,  in  fact — else  it  were  not 
possible  for  Coleman  to  fail ;  and  another  coolly 
awaited  until  he  should  hear  a  statement  of  the 
debtor's  affairs,  in  order  to  determine  whether 
it  would  be  most  for  his  interest  to  wind  him 
up  or  let  him  go  on.  There  were  but  few  who 
even  dreamed  that  the  unhappy  debtor  was  en- 
titled to  any  consideration. 

Punctual  to  the  appointed  hour  nearly  all 
assembled.  Hartwell  moved  that  a  certain 
merchant  present  take  the  chair,  which  being 
agreed  to,  the  meeting  was  ready  to  go  to  busi- 
ness. Mr.  Coleman  then  gave  a  history  of  his 
affairs  for  several  years,  and  stated  with  great 
minuteness  every  transaction  of  more  recent 
date,  dwelling  particularly  upon  the  judgment 
to  Everton,  and  also  upon  the  extraordinary 
means  te  had  adopted  in  the  hope  of  lifting 


MEETING    OF    CREDITORS.  G7 

die  notes  given  to  Everton,  and  thereby  an- 
nulling tlie  judgment.  He  also  related  how 
Turner  had  discovered  these  last  transactions 
as  far  as  himself  was  concerned,  and  thereby 
brought  about  a  crisis  in  his  affairs  that  could 
not  have  been  very  long  delayed.  After  this 
he  read  a  statement,  showing  his  liabilities  and 
resources,  and  then  sat  down  without  any  com- 
ment thereon. 

It  was  some  time  before  any  one  made  a  re- 
mark. At  length  a  merchant  said,  in  a  grave 
voice — 

"  I  think  our  friend  has  been  to  blame  IB 
many  things  that  he  has  done." 

"  To  blame  !"  echoed  Turner,  in  a  sharp, 
excited  voice.  "  Worse,  I  should  say,  than 
merely  to  blame." 

"  And  so  should  I,"  said  another.  "  This 
giving  a  judgment,  in  order  to  prefer  one  man 
over  another,  is  not  a  fair  way  to  do  business." 

"  But  remark,"  spoke  up  Hartwell,  "  that 
this  transaction  looked  to  no  such  preference. 
It  shows  that  upon  its  face." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  that  it  does,"  was  re- 
torted. "  It's  A  judgment  sweeping  the  entire 
stock  in  his  store,  and  leaving  nothing  for  you 
nor  me,  nor  anybody  else.  That  is  enough 
for  me.  I  do  not  wish  to  look  any  deeper,  nor 


68  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

comfort  myself  for  what  I  am  doomed  to  los« 
by  any  over  nice  discriminations." 

"  No,  nor  I  either,"  said  Turner.  "  The 
fact  is,  things  look  bad — very  bad !  And  I  for 
one—" 

From  the  moment  Turner  began  to  speak, 
Coleman  fixed  his  eyes  steadily  upon  him,  and 
looked  at  him  with  a  meaning  in  his  glance  so 
well  understood  by  the  former,  that  he  paused 
in  the  middle  of  his  sentence  and  left  it  unfin- 
ished. As  he  did  so,  Coleman  withdrew  his 
eyes  from  his  face. 

This  meaning  look,  and  also  its  effect  upon 
Turner,  were  noticed  by  many  of  those  present. 

"  Buying  goods  on  time  and  forcing  them  off 
for  cash  !"  said  another  of  the  creditors,  in  a 
voice  of  surprise  and  rebuke.  "  I  don't  like 
that  at  all.  As  Mr.  Turner  says,  it  looks  bad 
For  my  part  I  can't  see  how  any  man  of  truly 
honest  principles  could  do  it.  Why,  I  would 
fail  a  dozen  times  before  I  would  do  that." 

"  And  so  would  any  other  honest  man,"  fell 
sharply  from  the  lips  of  Turner.  Coleman's 
eyes  were  again  upon  his  face. 

"  Gentlemen,"  interposed  the  merchant  who 
had  been  called  to  preside  at  the  meeting,  "  re- 
marks of  this  kind  are  unnecessary.  We  are 
here  to  make  an  examination  into  the  affairs  of 


MEETING    OF    CREDITORS.  69 

our  unfortunate  debtor,  who  calls  us  in  and 
submits  to  us  a  full  statement  of  his  business. 
It  is  seriously  involved,  I  am  sorry  to  say ;  but 
we  have,  now,  less  to  do  with  the  causes  that 
led  to  embarrassment,  than  with  the  actual  con- 
dition of  things.  Let  us  act  like  men  of  rea- 
son and  consideration  ;  not  with  mere  passion 
and  impulse.  From  Mr.  Coleman's  own  state- 
ment it  appears  that  his  liabilities  and  assets 
are  about  equal  in  amount ;  but,  it  is  very 
plain  that,  in  the  settlement  of  his  affairs,  not 
over  fifty  per  cent,  of  the  valuation  here  placed 
upon  his  assets  can  possibly  be  realized.  His 
proposition  is  to  relinquish  everything  and  let 
us  make  the  best  of  what  is  left ;  and  it  is  for 
us  to  consider  whether  this  will  enable  us  to 
divide  more  on  the  dollar,  than  would  be  ob- 
tained if  we  left  the  settlement  of  affairs  in  his 
own  hands,  though  under  certain  restrictions." 

"  Fifty  cents  on  the  dollar !"  said  Turner 
impatiently.  "  After  Everton's  judgment 
sweeps  off  his  stock  in  trade,  I  should  like  to 
know  where  fifty  cents  on  the  dollar  are  to  come 
from." 

"  That  judgment  can  be  settled,  or  the  goods 
in  the  store  disposed  of  by  common  consent  of 
the  creditors  before  it  will  come  in  force,'' 
remarked  Hartwell. 


70  LEBTOR    AMD    CREEITOR. 

"  True,"  said  the  chairman.  "  Two  weeks; 
I  understand,  will  elapse  before  the  judgment 
can  be  used.  Long  before  that,  this  whole 
stock  can  be  removed ;  and  Everton  will  have 
to  come  in  and  take  his  proportion  with  the 
rest  of  us,  which  I  consider  no  more  than  right. 
The  first  thing  to  do.  in  order  to  begin  this 
work  promptly,  is  for  Mr.  Coleman  to  make  a 
general  assignment  of  everything  for  the  mu- 
tual benefit  of  his  creditors.  If  this  does  not 
protect  his  property  from  seizure  under  a  judg- 
ment not  yet  in  force,  which  I  am  of  opinion 
that  it  will,  we  will  at  least  be  in  a  position  to 
protect  our  own  interests." 

Much  more  conversation  passed,  in  which 
many  of  those  present  took  occasion  to  be  se- 
vere upon  the  debtor,  and  to  intimate  that 
many  of  his  avowed  transactions  were  of  a  verj 
questionable  character.  Some  were  in  favor 
of  giving  him  the  settlement  of  affairs,  and 
others  positively  objected. 

"  We  have  had  enough  of  his  management," 
remarked  one. 

"  Yes,  Heaven  knows  we  have  !"  said  Tur- 
ner. 

"  Gentlemen  !"  spoke  up  Coleman,  a  so  far 
as  I  am  individually  concerned,  I  would  much 
rather  not  have  the  settlement  of  this  business 


MEETING    OF    CREDITORS  71 

placed  in  my  hands.  But,  I  am  satisfied  that 
I  could  make  it  pay  a  larger  dividend  than 
would  be  obtained  by  any  one  else  ;  and  there- 
fore would  rather  be  entrusted  with  the  man- 
agement of  affairs.  But  that  must  be  as  you 
think  best.  I  do  not  ask  nor  expect  to  be  con- 
sidered at  all  in  the  matter." 

"  To  this  I  positively  object,"  said  Turner. 

"  And  so  do  I." 

"  And  so  do  I,"  was  repeated  by  several  of 
those  present. 

Coleman  was  stung  to  the  quick  by  this  op- 
position, which  involved  a  reflection  upon  his 
integrity.  But  so  anxious  did  he  feel  that  the 
irost  possible  to  be  obtained  from  the  wreck  of 
his  business,  should  be  realised  for  the  benefit 
of  creditors,  that  he  appeared  not  to  notice  what 
had  been  said,  but  went  on  to  show  how  much 
better  for  all  it  would  be  if  the  business  of 
closing  up  everything  were  left  in  his  hands. 

"  I  will  never  consent." 

"  He's  too  anxious  to  keep  his  hands  on 
everything." 

"  I've  had  enough  of  him." 

And  similar  expressions,  reached  the  ears  of 
Coleman  from  various  parts  of  the  room,  spoken 
from  one  to  another,  yet  loud  enough  to  be  dis- 
tinctly heard  by  all. 


73  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

*'  I  have  no  more  to  say,  gentlemen  Con- 
Bult  your  own  interests,  and  do  what  you  think 
best,"  said  the  debtor,  shrinking  down  into  his 
place,  and  feeling  a  most  oppressive  and  pain- 
ful sense  of  humiliation. 

There  was  for  some  moments  a  dead  pause. 

"  I  move,"  said  Hartwell,  "  for  the  appoint- 
ment of  a  committee  of  three  persons,  into 
whose  hands  shall  be  given  the  statement  just 
made  by  Mr.  Coleman ;  and  that  they  be  re- 
quested to  examine  the  same,  and  report  there- 
on at  a  meeting  to  be  held  to-morrow  night  at 
this  plttce.1' 

To  this  there  was  a  spontaneous  agreement ; 
and,  after  a  good  deal  of  conversation,  in  which 
but  little  was  said  that  did  not  smart  upon  the 
debtor's  feeling,  though  often  no  intention  to 
wound  was  in  the  mind  of  him  who  spoke,  the 
meeting  adjourned,  and  Coleman  went  home, 
BO  weak  in  every  limb,  that  he  sank,  exhausted, 
upon  a  sofa,  the  moment  he  entered  his  room. 

"  Words  are  little  things,"  he  said  to  his 
wife,  after  he  had  recovered  himself,  and  was 
able  to  relate  calmly,  the  occurrences  of  the 
evening  ;  "  but,  sometimes,  they  fall  upon  a 
man  like  strokes  from  a  sledge-hammer  ;  and  it 
requires  no  ordinary  strength  of  mind  to  bear 
up  under  them.  There  is  something  cowardly 


MEETING    OF    CREDITORS.  f& 

m  the  thrusting  at  a  man  who  has  no  power  to 
defend  himself." 

"  An  honest  mind  is  not  over  quick  to 
charge  dishonesty  upon  others,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Coleman. 

"  I  am  aware  of  that ;  and  should  not  feel  as 
I  do,  because  men  who  are  not  over  nice  in 
their  own  dealings,  think  themselves  authorized 
to  insult  me.  But,  the  weight  of  a  feather 
cannot  be  borne  if  laid  upon  a  part  that  is 
highly  inflamed." 

"It  is  hard  to  bear  insult  from  those  we 
have  unintentionally  wronged,  for  we  have  no 
power  to  defend  ourselves." 

"  Yes  ;  and  that  is  the  reason  why  I  feel  so 
acutely,"  replied  Coleman. 

In  mutual  efforts  to  sustain  each  other  in 
the  trials  upon  which  they  were  entering,  Cole- 
man and  his  wife  spent  a  long  time,  and  then 
sought  their  pillows,  where  they  lay  for  hours 
before  sleep  came  with  its  blessed  lethoon. 


74  DEBTOR    AND    HREDITOR. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    ASSIGNMENT. 

DURING  the  next  day  Coleman  was  visitei 
by  many  of  his  creditors,  especially  by  those 
who  felt  their  individual  cases  to  be  very 
hard. 

"  It  will  ruin  me,"  said  one  man,  in  great 
agitation — "  utterly  ruin  me.  How  could 
you  let  your  affairs  become  so  dreadfully  en- 
tangled !  You  ought  to  have  informed  me  of 
this  long  ago,  and  given  me  a  chance  to  save 
myself.  There  are  plenty  who  can  bear  the 
loss  ;  I  cannot." 

"  It  is  too  late  now  to  do  anything,"  replied 
Mr.  Coleman. 

"  I  know  it  is  ;  and  that  is  what  makes  the 
matter  so  much  worse.  I  shall  have  to  stop — 
there  is  no  help  for  it." 

"  I  only  owe  you  two  thousand  dollars,"  said 
the  debtor.  "  Surely  you  can  bear  up  under 
the  loss  of  half  of  that  sum." 

"  No,  I  cannot.  It  is  the  last  pound  that 
breaks  the  camel's  back."  And  the  man  walk 
ed  about,  greatly  disturbed. 

"  I  wish  it  were  different,"   said  M.r.  Cole- 


THE    ASSIGNMENT 


man.  "  But,  as  things  now  are,  only  one  ro- 
Bult  can  be  looked  for.  I  have  no  longer  any 
control  over  my  affairs,  as  you  know." 

"  I  shall  be  ruined — ruined  !  Nothing  can 
now  save  me  !  The  hard  labor  of  five  years 
will  be  swept  from  my  hands  in  a  moment,  and 
I  shall  be  turned  adrift  upon  the  world,  bur- 
dened with  a  growing  and  expensive  family." 

"  I  will  be  no  better  off,"  Coleman  said, 
"  after  a  hard  struggle  of  twenty  years." 

"  You !"  was  the  quick  retort.  "  Am  I  to 
blame  for  your  failure  r" 

"  I  did  not  say  that  you  were." 

"  Is  any  one  blameable  but  yourself  ?" 

"  Perhaps  not." 

"  Then  you  should  bear  the  consequences  of 
your  own  acts  without  complaining.'' 

Stung  by  this  rebuke,  Coleman  remained 
silent  while  the  man  indulged  his  humor,  until 
either  decency  or  exhaustion  caused  him  to  de- 
sist. He  had  been  gone  but  a  little  while, 
when  another  came  in — 

"  Is  it  possible,"  he  said,  speaking  warmly, 
"  that  you  sent  the  last  lot  of  goods  bought 
from  me  to  auction." 

"  I  stated  as  much  last  evening,  sir." 

"  But  was  that  right  ? — was  that  honest,  Mr. 
Coleman  ?" 


76  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

'•  You  must  decide  that  matter  for  yourself. 
I  -have  fully  stated  the  reason  why  I  did  so  " 

"  But  no  reason  can  justify  such  a  proceed- 
ing." 

"  Perhaps  not.  I  sought  no  justification 
when  I  stated  the  fact ;  and  ask  none  now. 
That  it  was  not  done  to  secure  my  own  pecu- 
niary good,  I  believe  I  have  the  means  of 
showing." 

"  Buy  large  quantities  of  goods  on  time,  and 
force  them  off  at  auction,  immediately  previous 
to  failing !  Depend  upon  it,  Mr.  Coleman, 
this  looks  bad — very  bad  !" 

"  I  grant  you  that  it  does.  My  reasons  for 
doing  so  you  already  have,  and  you  must  all 
judge  me  as  you  think  best.  The  worst  part 
of  the  whole  affair  is,  that  there  is  now  no  help 
for  what  has  been  done.  If  the  consequences 
fell  only  on  me  ;  if  my  property  would  pay  all 
I  owed,  I  think  I  could  meet,  with  a  cheerful 
face,  whatever  is  to  follow,  even  though  not  a 
single  cent  be  left  me." 

"  It  looks  bad,  sir,  bad !"  muttered  the 
creditor.  "  Very  bad  !  I  never  heard  of  suoh 
a  thing  !  How  much  do  you  think  you  can 
pay?" 

"  If  permitted  to  settle  up  everything  my- 
self, I  am  sanguine  that  I  can  pay  from  seventy 


THE    ASSIGNMENT.  77 

(o  eighty  per  cent,  of  the  whole  amount  of  in- 
debtedness." 

"  You  are  !"  This  was  said  in  a  tone  of 
surprise." 

"  I  am  sure  that  I  could  do  it.  But  if  my 
effects  are  placed  in  the  hands  of  some  one 
who  knows  nothing  about  my  business,  and  who 
will  not  take  the  pains  that  I  would  to  turn 
everything  to  the  best  account,  not  over  forty  or 
fifty  per  cent,  may  be  realized." 

"  That  is  a  serious  difference." 

"  It  certainly  is.  There  will  be  a  loss — 
this  is  inevitable.  But,  it  is  only  just  to  me, 
as  well  as  to  all  concerned,  to  make  this  loss 
as  small  as  possible." 

"  No  doubt  of  that  in  the  world.  Eighty 
cents.  You  are  sanguine  of  being  able  to  pay 
as  high  a  per  centage  as  this,  if  you  have  con- 
trol over  the  property  assigned." 

"  I  am,"  replied  Coleman,  confidently. 

"  Then  I  am  in  favor  of  your  being  allowed 
to  settle  up  the  business." 

"  I  am  sure  it  will  be  better  for  all  parties." 

"  There  are. some,  however,  who  will  oppose 
this,"  said  the  creditor,  his  austerity  of  man- 
ner now  almost  entirely  gone. 

"  I  am  aware  of  that ;  and,  really,  have  no 
ijxpectation  of  being  permitted  to  do  anything 
7* 


78  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

more  than  deliver  up  my  account  books  and 
property  into  the  hands  of  persons  appointed 
to  receive  them." 

'•  And  who,  not  knowing  anything  about 
your  business,  will  conduct  the  settlement  in  a 
manner  entirely  detrimental  to  the  interests  of 
creditors." 

"  Of  course.     How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?" 

"  Mr.  Colenian,"  said  this  man,  after  reflect- 
ing for  a  short  time,  and  speaking  in  an  insinu- 
ating tone  of  voice.  "  I  think  I  have  some  in- 
fluence with  the  majority  of  your  creditors,  and 
have  no  doubt  but  that  I  could  do  a  great  deal 
towards  promoting  your  wishes." 

"  I  am  sure  of  that,  if  you  saw  proper  to  use 
your  influence." 

"  And  why  should  I  not  ?" 

"  You  can,  yourself,  best  answer  that  ques- 
tion." 

"  Mr.  Coleman."  The  creditor's  manner 
became  more  bland  and  insinuating.  "  In  mat- 
ters of  this  kind,  a  debtor  ought  to  have  a  friend 
at  court." 

"  He  ought,  for  there  will  be  enough  there 
who  have  no  very  kind  feelings  towards 
him." 

"  You  may  well  say  that.  And  in  your 
case,  the  remark  is  particularly  true.  Nearly 


THE    ASSIGNMENT.  79 

*11  with  whom  I  have  conversed  express  senti- 
ments that  are  far  from  being  friendly." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  that ;  I  wish  it  were  other 
wise." 

"  So  do  I.  But  as  I  have  said,  so  it  is 
There  is,  therefore,  so  much  the  stronger  rea 
son  why  you  should  make  a  friend,  if  you  can, 
and  that  an  influential  one.  I  have  influence 
and  you  can  make  me  your  Mend,  if  you  will." 

"How?" 

"  By  so  managing  the  affairs,  if  the  settle- 
ment comes  into  your  hands,  as  to  make  the 
loss  I  am  about  to  sustain,  lighter  than  it  would 
otherwise  be." 

Mr.  Coleman  shook  his  head. 

"  You  can  do  so,"  pursued  the  creditor, 
"  without  injury  to  others.  Just  take  this  view 
of  it.  It  is  of  the  utmost  importance  for  you 
to  get  the  settlement  of  this  business  into  your 
hands,  that  you  may  have  it  in  your  power  to 
protect  not  only  the  general  interests  of  your 
creditors,  but  the  interests  of  a  few  who  have, 
doubtless,  befriended  you  in  extremity,  and 
whom  you  must  be  anxious  to  save  from  harm. 
I  have  heard  that  you  owe  sums  of  money  bor- 
rowed from  your  relatives,  and  others,  who 
ought  to  be  paid  off  in  full.  This  you  could 
do,  and  yet  secure  to  all  a  much  larger  divi- 


PO  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

dend,  than  if  a  person  less  interested  than  your- 
self were  to  be  empowered  to  close  up  the 
estate.  Now,  just  say  that  you  will  put  me  en 
the  list  of  those  entitled  to  a  little  extra  con- 
sideration, and  I  will  go  for  your  being  per- 
mitted to  settle  up  the  business,  and  fight 
through  in  spite  of  everything." 

"  If  you  think  it  right,"  Coleman  replied  to 
this,  "  to  advocate  my  appointment,  I  will  pro- 
mise to  secure  your  interests  as  fully  as  I  do 
those  of  any  relative  or  friend  that  I  have,  but 
to  no  greater  extent." 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  not  to  ask  any  more," 
said  the  man. 

"  But,"  resumed  Coleman,  "  I  would  not 
have  you  suppose,  for  a  moment,  that  I  would 
give  my  own  brother  an  advantage  in  the  set- 
tlement of  my  affairs  over  the  greatest  enemy  I 
had  in  the  world,  were  he  my  creditor." 

The  man  changed  color,  looked  disappoint- 
ed, and  bowing  to  Coleman,  turned  off  and  left 
his  store. 

Many  other  interviews  were  held  with  credi 
tors  during  this  day  of  trial ;  some  appealing 
for  special  acts  in  their  favor,  in  consideration 
of  their  peculiar  circumstances  ;  some  coming 
in  for  the  mere  satisfaction  of  saying  some  hard 
things  ;  others  to  get  satisfaction  on  certain 


THE    ASSIGNMENT.  81 

points  not  clearly  understood,  and  others  t  j  see 
if  the  debtor  could  not  be  won  over  so  far  as  to 
favor  particular  interests. 

At  length  the  hour,  at  which  a  second  meet- 
ing of  creditors  was  to  take  place,  arrived. 
Not  over  half  who  met  at  first  were  in  attend- 
ance. Most  of  the  absentees  had  expressed 
their  views  to  certain  men  who  intended  to  be 
present. 

The  report  of  the  committee  that  had  been 
appointed  for  the  purposes  of  inquiry  and 
investigation,  did  not  make  the  debtor's  state- 
ment look  quite  so  favorable  as  it  at  first  ap- 
peared. This  gave  room  for  such  as  felt  dis- 
posed, to  say  things  that  were  unpleasant  to 
the  feelings  of  Coleman  ;  and  the  opportu- 
nity was  improved,  and  the  unhappy  man 
galled  and  chafed  until  he  could  with  difficulty 
retain  a  decent  self-control.  Particularly  did 
certain  parties  dwell  upon  the  improper  sale  of 
goods  at  auction — they  were  those  who  had 
suffered  thereby.  That  they  felt  aggrieved,  is 
no  matter  of  surprise.  Coleman,  in  the  wrong 
he  had  suffered  himself  to  do  them,  while  blind- 
ly struggling  to  get  out  of  a  difficulty,  laid  him- 
self open  to  consequences  such  as  were  now 
visiting  him  Neither  his  acts,  nor  the  spirit 
that  punished  them,  can  wo  approve  ;  but,  on 


82  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

the  score  of  disapproval,  the  latter  certainly  i? 
open  to  the  severest  censure,  as,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, uncalled  for,  unmanly,  and  cruel. 
There  is,  often,  in  the  conduct  of  creditora 
towards  debtors,  a  spirit  of  unmitigated  base- 
ness ;  a  meanness  and  cowardliness  that  all 
honorable  men  despise.  And  there  are,  at  the 
game  time,  noble  exceptions  to  this  course  of 
conduct.  We  have  seen  men  sign  away  claims 
of  thousands  of  dollars,  and,  in  doing  so,  avoid 
a  word  or  a  look  that  could  make  the  unfortu- 
nate debtor  feel  a  pang  beyond  which  his  own 
reflections  gave.  And  we  have  seen  men,  in 
view  of  heavy  losses  to  themselves,  forget  their 
own  position,  and  argue  the  poor  debtor's  cause 
as  earnestly  as  if  they  were  pleading  their  own 
— voluntarily  giving  up  certain  advantages,  and 
urging  others  to  do  the  same  in  order  that  he 
who  owed  them  more  than  he  could  pay,  might 
not  be  altogether  broken  up  and  deprived  of  the 
means  of  supporting  his  family.  In  most  cases 
of  insolvency,  an  honest  debtor — that  is,  one 
who,  no  matter  what  have  been  his  errors,  de- 
signed no  wrong — is  the  one  who  most  needs 
commiseration.  He  gives  up  all,  everything, 
and  his  family  are  deprived,  it  may  be,  of  com- 
forts to  which  they  have,  all  their  lives,  been 
usod  ;  while  his  creditors  lose  only  a  certain  sum 


THE    ASSIGNMENT.  83 

that  rarely  if  ever  causes  the  abridgment  of  a 
(jingle  luxury.  Of  course  there  are  exceptions 
to  this.  It  often  happens  that  the  failure  of 
one  man  brings  distress  to  many  others.  Bat 
we  are  only  speaking  of  what  is  general. 

The  first  thing  to  be  considered  at  the  meet- 
ing, was  the  manner  in  which  the  debtor's 
estate  should  be  settled.  Mr.  Hartwell  pro- 
posed that  everything  be  left  in  the  hands  of 
Mr.  Coleman,  under  a  certain  supervision,  with 
instructions  to  him  to  close  out  all  his  goods, 
and  collect  in  his  debts  as  rapidly  as  was  con- 
sistent with  the  general  interests  of  creditors. 

"  I  object  to  that  in  toto,"  said  one  of  the 
creditors,  very  promptly.  "  We  have  had 
enough  of  mismanagement  under  him  already. 
I  go  for  the  speediest  settlement  of  everything. 
Let  us  have  what  we  are  to  get,  whether  it  be 
eighty  or  ten  cents  on  the  dollar,  and  be  done 
with  it." 

"  I'm  of  precisely  the  same  opinion,"  said 
Turner.  u  And,  for  one,  I  shall  positively  ob- 
ject to  giving  the  gentleman  any  further  say  in 
regard  to  the  closing  up  of  this  miserable  busi- 
ness. There  is  one  matter  of  which  I  have 
thought  since  last  night,  and  to  which  I  will 
call  attention.  I  find,  that  in  the  schedule  fur- 
nished by  Coleman,  not  a  word  is  said  about 


H4  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

household  furniture,  plate,  jewelry,  etc.  Now, 
I  have  pretty  good  reasons  for  knowing  that 
the  aggregate  of  all  these  will  make  a  hand- 
some amount.  But,  perhaps,  they  are  already 
made  over  to  meet  some  special  cases." 

"  I  admit,"  said  Coleman,  rising  and  inter- 
rupting Turner,  "  that  these  have  not  been  in- 
cluded in  my  list  of  assets.  But,  they  are  all 
unincumbered,  and  I  shall  not  make  the  small- 
est effort  to  retain  or  dispose  of  them." 

"  At  what  do  you  estimate  their  value  ?" 
inquired  one  of  the  creditors. 

"  Take  everything — books,  plate,  &c.,  and 
I  suppose  from  two  to  four  thousand  dollars 
might  be  obtained  therefor." 

u  Quite  an  important  item  on  the  right  side 
of  our  account,"  said  Turner. 

And  there  were  others  who  agreed  with  him 
in  this. 

"  Gentleman,"  said  one  of  the  creditors, 
who  had  been  nearly  silent  till  now,  "  in  mat- 
ters of  this  kind,  I  need  not  inform  you,  that 
there  are  always  two  parties.  Ono  is  weak  and 
powerless — the  other  strong,  and  too  often  dis- 
posed to  oppress  The  debtor,  I  think,  is  en- 
titled to  some  forbearance  ;  and  I  am  always 
ready  to  consider  him,  as  far  as  I  can  do  so  in 
justice  to  myself.  I  believe,  out  of  the  fifteen 


THE    ASSIGNMENT.  85 

persons  present  this  evening,  that  there  is  not 
one  who  has  not  a  comfortable  home,  and  am- 
ple means  to  continue  these  blessings  to  his 
family,  despite  the  losses  he  will  sustain  through 
the  failure  of  our  unfortunate  friend  whose  case 
we  are  considering  to-night.  Now,  I  ask  each 
one  of  you  to  reflect  a  moment,  and  ask  him- 
self whether  he  will  enjoy  the  warmth  of  his 
own  fireside  any  the  better  for  the  reflection 
that  the  hearth  of  our  debtor  is  cold  and  dark  ? 
I  am  sure  he  will  not.  It  is  bad  enough  for 
him  to  be  turned  adrift  upon  the  world  to  look 
for  the  means  of  keeping  the  grim  monster 
want  from  entering  his  door,  without  our  visit- 
ing, with  the  extremest  severity  in  our  power, 
his  mistakes  or  misfortunes  suddenly  upon  his 
family,  some  members  of  which  most  of  us 
know  and  highly  esteem.  The  little  that  each 
one  will  receive  as  a  proportion  of  what  his 
furniture  will  bring,  if  sold,  is  of  too  light  im- 
portance to  justify  our  laying  hands  upon  it 
I  am,  therefore,  in  favor  of  making  his  furni- 
ture, plate,  etc.,  a  present  to  Mrs.  Coleman." 
"  And  I  am  in  favor  of  no  such  thing,"  re- 
plied Turner,  springing  to  his  feet  the  n'oment 
the  other  sat  down.  "  With  the  same  pro- 
priety, we  might  present  Coleman  himself  with 
the  goods  iu  his  store,  or  the  accounts  on  his 


86  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR 

lodger,  in  order  to  give  him  the  means  of  sup- 
porting his  family.  In  fact,  give  him  a  receipt 
in  full  and  let  him  go  scot  free.  But,  I  tell 
you,  sir,  that  I  have  no  fancy  for  letting  other 
people  enjoy  themselves  at  my  expense.  That 
furniture  was  bought  with  a  part  of  my  money. 
I  have,  therefore,  a  claim  upon  it,  and  shall  not 
relinquish  it." 

To  this,  the  individual  who  had  made  the 
more  generous  proposal,  said — 

"  As  for  stripping  an  unfortunate  debtor  of 
everything,  and  turning  him  adrift  upon  the 
world,  with  a  large  family  upon  his  hands  and 
no  means  of  supporting  them,  I  never  did  bs- 
lieve  it  just.  A  great  deal  is  said  about  the 
rights  of  property  ;  but  I  recognise  the  rights  of 
humanity  as  having  some  claim  to  be  heard  at 
the  same  time.  Not  only  would  I  spare  the 
household  goods  of  our  debtor,  but  I  would, 
also,  cheerfully  relinquish  five  or  ten  per  cent, 
on  the  whole  amount  realized  in  the  settlement 
of  his  estate,  and  present  it  to  him  as  a  small 
capital  on  which  to  begin  again,  and  acquire 
the  means  of  supporting  his  family,  and  edu- 
cating his  children  To  each  of  us  this  would 
not  be  a  serious  matter  ;  to  him  it  would  be 
everything.  It  would  take  nothing  from  our 
personal  comfort,  or  the  comfort  of  our  farni- 


THE    ASSIGNMENT.  87 

lies  ,  And  be  almost  everything  to  him  and 
his." 

"  W-J],  gentlemen,  you  can  all  do  as  you 
please,"  said  Turner,  in  answer  to  this.  "  For 
my  part,  I  am  in  business  for  my  own  benefit, 
and  have  enough  to  do  to  take  care  of  my  own 
family.  I  would  soon  find  myself  coming  out 
at  the  little  end  of  the  horn,  and  so  would  all 
the  rest  of  us,  if  we  adopted  the  system  pro- 
posed of  paying  five  or  ten  per  cent,  commis- 
sion on  insolvency.  It's  bad  enough  to  be  put  off 
with  forty  or  fifty  per  cent,  on  what  is  actually 
due  you.  But,  to  make  a  gratuity  of  five  or 
ten  per  cent,  of  that,  is  cutting  it  a  little  too 
deep  for  me,  and  I  wont  stand  it  no  how.  I 
never  covet  other  people's  goods,  but  I  think 
I  am  fairly  entitled  to  my  own,  and  generally 
take  good  care  to  get  it  if  I  can." 

"  I  hope  gentlemen  present,"  returned  the 
individual  who  had  before  spoken,  "  will  not 
permit  themselves  to  be  influenced  by  any  ap- 
peals to  a  selfish  and  inhumane  spirit.  Our 
debtor  is  a  man  of  like  feelings  with  ourselves, 
find  like  us,  has  children  whom  he  loves  and 
has  to  care  for.  Do  not  put  your  foot  upon 
his  neck,  now  that  he  is  down.  Do  not  pur- 
sue him  to  the  last  extremity.  Give  him  a 


DEBTOR    AND    CREDIT    » . 

chance  to  recover  himself.  It  may  be  bettei 
for  you,  as  well  as  for  himself,  in  the  end." 

*'  I  don't  see  how  I  am  to  be  benefited  by 
his  recovering  himself,"  said  Turner,  ill-na- 
turedly. 

"  He  may  be  able  to  pay  the  balance  of  your 
claim  against  him." 

"  He  !  Oh,  yes  !"  and  Turner  spoke  sneer- 
ingly.  "  I've  heard  of  such  things  as  fortu- 
nate debtors  paying  off  their  old  claims,  but  I 
have  yet  to  see  the  man  who  can  say  that  he 
ever  saw  the  thing  done,  and  I  have  my  doubts 
if  it  ever  was  done.  It1s  the  same  story  that  I 
hear  at  all  meetings  of  creditors — but  it's  only 
a  story  got  up  to  serve  a  certain  purpose." 

As  Turner  ceased  speaking,  Hartwell  said — 

"  I  certainly  do  approve  the  humane  senti- 
ments that  have  been  expressed  here  to-night 
by  one  of  the  gentlemen.  They  are  alike 
creditable  to  his  head  and  heart.  I  am  very 
sure,  that  we  are  more  in  danger  of  erring  on 
the  side  of  harshness  than  leniency  towards  our 
unfortunate  debtor.  For  one,  I  am  in  favor  of 
making  his  furniture  a  present  to  his  family. 
It  would  divide  but  a  small  sum  to  each  of  ua 
— while  it  will  be  of  great  importance  to  them. 
As  to  the  liberal  suggestion  of  a  per  centago 


THE    ASSIGNMENT.  89 

on  the  actual  proceeds  of  his  estate  as  a  small 
capital  to  enable  him  to  commence  business  and 
support  his  family,  I  must  confess  that  1  like  it 
There  is  something  noble  and  generous  in  such 
an  act  that  speaks  well  for  human  nature.  I 
am  sure,  that  my  fire  will  burn  brighter  as  I 
gather  around  it  with  my  little  ones,  to  think 
that  I  have  done  my  part  towards  keeping  the 
coals  alive  in  his.  Gentlemen  !  Let  us  not 
look  upon  the  mere  possession  of  gold  as  the 
greatest  good.  Let  us  not  put  a  few  dollars 
in  one  pocket  at  so  great  a  cost  as  that  of 
bringing  want  and  distress  into  a  whole  house 
hold.  It  will  cost  each  of  us  but  a  small  sa- 
crifice to  do  a  great  good." 

"  According  to  that,"  retorted  Turner, 
sharply,  "  we  had  better  turn  Samaritans  at 
once,  and  raise  a  general  fund  for  the  setting 
up  again  of  every  poor  devil  who  fails  in  busi- 
ness. I  reckon  we  shouldn't  have  much  left 
in  the  end.  The  fact  is,  gentlemen,  I  don't 
claim  to  possess  any  very  extra  share  of  bene- 
volence. I've  seen  enough  of  the  world  to 
satisfy  me,  that  any  man  who  expects  to  get 
along  must  learn  to  take  care  of  himself,  and 
leave  every  one  else  to  look  after  his  own  af- 
fairs. As  to  doing  anything  so  preposterous  as 
the  gentleman  suggests,  I  will  net  think  of  it 


90  DEBTOR    AND    CRE1  ITOR. 

for  a  moment.  What  is  mine  is  mine,  and  I'll 
claim  it  at  the  very  gate  of  Perdition  !  So, 
you  all  know  how  I  stand  in  this  business." 

Some  of  the  creditors  leaned  to  the  views  of 
Turner,  and  others  felt  and  yielded  to  the  force 
of  better  convictions.  Upon  taking  the  sense 
of  the  meeting,  it  was  found  that  a  large  ma- 
jority were  in  favor  of  letting  the  household 
goods  of  the  debtor  remain  untouched. 

It  was  then  proposed  by  one  of  the  parties 
present  to  abate  a  third  of  the  claims  against 
Coleman,  and  give  him  from  one  to  three  years 
in  which  to  pay  the  balance  of  two-thirds  ;  the 
property  to  remain  secured  to  the  creditors 
under  the  assignment,  and  to  be  released  when 
the  amount  specified  was  paid.  This,  he  ar- 
gued, would  give  the  debtor  a  chance  to  recover 
himself,  and  enable  him  to  pay  a  larger  divi- 
dend than  would  be  obtained  if  the  business 
were  settled  up  in  a  summary  way. 

"No,  sir!"  Turner  decidedly  objected  to 
this.  "  For  one,  I  am  not  going  to  be  left 
hanging  by  the  eyelids  for  two  or  three  years 
Whatever  the  estate  will  divide  I  want  as  soou 
as  it  can  be  obtained.  The  first  loss  I  have 
always  found  to  be  the  least.  All  these  hu- 
mane, debtor-considering  measures,  never  turn 
out  to  the  creditor's  advantage,  but  always  to 


THE    ASSIGNMENT.  91 

his  injury.  Let  this  matter  go  on  for  two  or 
three  years,  and  you'll  not  one  of  you  get  ten 
per  cent.,  if  you  do  a  copper.  The  business 
must  be  closed  up  at  once." 

On  this  point  the  meeting  stood,  for  some 
time,  nearly  equally  divided  ;  but  Turner's  in- 
fluence at  last  prevailed,  and  it  was  determined 
to  close  up  everything  as  speedily  as  possible. 
A  good  deal  of  discussion  followed  as  to  whe- 
ther Colenian  should  be  employed  to  make  the 
settlement,  or  whether  his  effects  should  be 
placed  in  the  hands  of  an  assignee.  The  last 
proposition  was  carried. 

It  was  then  moved  that  the  furniture,  plate, 
etc.,  of  the  debtor  be  presented  to  his  wife 
Unexpectedly  to  all,  Turner  made  no  objec- 
tion, and,  as  he  was  silent,  those  who  had  fol- 
lowed his  lead,  had  nothing  to  say.  The  mo- 
tion was  carried,  Turner  declining  to  vote  either 
way.  « 

When  the  meeting  broke  up,  after  appointing 
an  assignee,  and  arranging  for  the  speedy  clos- 
ing up  of  the  business,  Coleman  again  returned 
home,  but  so  exhausted,  that  his  yielding  limba 
with  difficulty  supported  the  weight  of  his  body. 
Wretched  as  he  felt,  he  had  yet  a  sense  of  re- 
lief in  view  of  the  certainty  that  now  existed. 
Hope,  fear,  and  anxiety  about  the  course  his 


92  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

creditors  \vould  pursue,  was  at  an  end.  They 
had  decided  to  take  everything  out  of  his 
hands,  and  settle  the  estate  entirely  independent 
of  his  co-operation. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

COilING    DOWN LOOKING    TO    THE    FUTURE. 

THE  cruel  insults,  and  bitter  opposition  of 
Turner,  had  been  borne  by  Coleinan  without 
any  reference  to  the  dishonorable  proposition 
this  creditor  had  made  to  him.  Once  or  twice, 
he  was  on  the  eve  of  alluding  to  what  had 
passed,  but  the  reflection  that  such  an  exposure 
would  only  render  opposition  more  malignant 
and  violent,  and  perhaps,  do  harm  all  round, 
kept  him  silent.  His  forbearance  only  gave 
room  for  grosser  insult. 

By  this  time,  Mrs.  Coleman  had  fully  ap- 
prised her  eldest  daughter  of  what  was  passing, 
and  of  the  great  reverse  they  were  about  to  suf- 
fer. As  might  be  supposed,  Marion  was  for  a 
time  overcome  by  such  an  unlooked-for  and 
distressing  announcement.  But  her  mother 


COMING    DOWN  93 

sought  to  turn  her  thoughts  from,  herself  (oher 
father,  and  awaken  in  her  mind  a  feeling  of 
sympathy  for  him  in  the  severe  trials  through 
which  he  was  passing.  In  this  she  was  fully 
successful,  and  the  affectionate  girl  forgot  all 
the  consequences  she  must  herself  bear,  in  the 
earnest  desire  she  felt  to  make  lighter  the  bui 
dens  that  were  laid  upon  her  beloved  parent. 

When  Mr.  Coleman  returned  home  from  the 
meeting  of  creditors  at  which  final  action  in 
regard  to  his  affairs  had  been  taken,  he  found 
both  his  wife  and  daughter  awaiting  him.  The 
look  of  earnest  affection  cast  upon  him  by  Ma- 
rion as  he  came  in,  assured  him  that  she  knew 
all,  and  that  she  was  prepared  to  meet  all  with 
sustaining  patience. 

In  answer  to  the  inquiries  of  his  wife,  Mr. 
Coleman  gave  a  minute  account  of  what  had 
passed  during  the  evening.  Marion  wept  as  he 
repeated  the  many  deeply  cutting  remarks  he 
had  been  compelled  to  bear,  from  men  whose 
own  sense  of  honor  and  just  dealing  were  by  no 
means  acute.  The  fact  that  her  parent,  for 
whom  she  felt  the  highest  respect,  as  well  as 
the  tenderest  affection,  had  been  so  cruelly  in- 
sulted, hurt  her  more  than  anything  that  had 
occurred  in  her  whole  life. 

"  They  have  spared  our  furniture,"  said  Mrs 


S4  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

Coleman,  after  the  first  emotions  awakened  by 
the  recital  of  the  husband  had  in  some  measure 
subsided.  "  Even  for  that  we  ought  to  be 
thankful." 

"  It  was  yielding  a  good  deal  in  our  favor  , 
more,  I  am  sure,  than  I  expected  or  had  any 
right  to  expect." 

"  There  can  now  be  nothing  wrong  in  my 
selling  the  things  I  spoke  of,  and  paying  the 
money  to  sister  ?" 

"  Nothing  at  all.  The  creditors  have  gene- 
rously presented  you  with  our  household  goods, 
plate,  and  various  little  matters  of  personal 
property,  and,  of  course,  we  may  dispose  of 
them  as  we  see  best.  And  it  is  my  opinion 
that  we  had  better  sell  immediately  every  arti- 
cle we  can  do  without,  and  assume  a  style  of 
living  in  accordance  with  our  altered  circum- 
stances. I  do  not  like  to  think  so  badly  of 
Turner,  but  I  cannot  help  believing,  that  his 
intention  is,  so  soon  as  he  sees  his  way  clear, 
to  seize  upon  what  the  creditors  have  spared, 
and  thus  make  good  any  loss  he  may  sustain  in 
the  final  closing  up  of  my  affairs.  All  at  once, 
while  this  matter  was  under  consideration,  he 
gave  up  his  opposition,  and  let  things  take  the 
course  desired  by  the  majority  of  creditors. 
\\7hen  tho  sense  of  the  meeting  was  taken  on 


COMING    DOWN  95 

the  subject,  he  declined  voting  either  way.  1  am 
satisfied  that  he  had  some  purpose  in  his  mind 
boding  no  good  to  me,  and  the  more  I  think 
about  it,  the  more  probable  does  it  seem,  that 
he  intends  seizing  upon  anything  he  can  find  in 
my  possession,  as  soon  as  he  can  see  his  way 
clear  to  do  it." 

"  The  man  who  could  make  such  dishonor- 
able proposals  as  he  made  to  you,"  replied 
Mrs.  Coleman,  "  will  not,  I  am  sure,  stop  at 
anything.  What  you  advise,  is,  therefore, 
best,  even  if  there  were  not  other  reasons  for 
doing  so.  Oh  yes  !  By  all  means  let  us  turn 
everything,  not  absolutely  needful,  into  money. 
Let  us  immediately  remove  into  a  smaller 
house,  and  take  a  more  humble  place  in  so- 
ciety. This  will  have  to  be  done  as  a  matter 
of  necessity ;  by  making  it,  in  some  sense,  a 
matter  of  choice,  the  sacrifice  will  neither  seem 
so  great  nor  be  so  painful." 

In  this  sentiment  the  daughter  acquiesced, 
and  showed  such  an  earnest,  self-sacrificing 
spirit,  notwithstanding  it  was  plain  that  her 
heart  shrunk  with  an  instinctive  fear  from  what 
was  before  her,  that  Mr.  Coleman  was  deeply 
touched  by  the  exhibition. 

As  they  said,  so  they  acted,  promptly.  A 
small  house,  in  a  part  of  the  town  at  some  du« 


96  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

tancc  from  where  they  lived,  was  taken,  at  a 
very  moderate  rent,  and  furnished  plainly  but 
comfortably.  Then  a  sale  of  the  more  elegant 
furniture  that  remained  was  advertised,  and 
everything  disposed  of  in  less  than  two  weeks 
from  the  time  at  which  the  assignment  had 
been  made.  The  sum  received  therefor — in- 
cluding a  handsome  rosewood  piano  belonging 
to  Marion,  was  nearly  three  thousand  dollars. 
One  thousand  of  this  was  immediately  paid  to 
Mrs.  Colcman's  sister,  and  five  hundred  to  the 
clerk  from  whom  a  thousand  dollars  had  been 
borrowed.  It  was  supposed  that  the  dividend 
on  the  property  and  debts  in  the  hands  of  the 
assignee  would  nearly,  if  not  quite,  make  up  the 
balance  due  to  these  parties.  The  fifteen  hun- 
dred dollars  that  remained,  Mr.  Coleman  de- 
posited in  bank,  until  he  could  see  clearly  what 
disposition  to  make  of  it.  Now  that  the  bit- 
terness of  the  terrible  reverse  he  had  sustained 
was  in  some  measure  gone,  he  began  to  think 
seriously  about  the  future,  and  what  was  due 
from  him  to  his  family,  as  well  as  to  those  who 
had  suffered  by  his  failure.  His  first  duty,  he 
clearly  saw  was  to  his  family. 

"  God  has  given  me  these  children,"  he 
eaid,  "  and  the  better  I  can  educate  them,  the 
better  fitted  will  they  be  to  perform  higher  uses 


COMING    DOWN.  97 

in  society  I  gave  up  every  tiling,  but  those  1 
owed  generously  returned  a  part ;  and  this  1 
look  upon  as  so  much  placed  in  my  hands  by 
Providence  as  a  means  of  sustaining  my  family. 
It  was  not,  perhaps,  right  for  me  to  let  a  part 
go,  in  a  spirit  of  preference,  to  my  sister-in- 
law  and  clerk.  Abstractly,  they  are  no  more 
entitled  to  consideration  than  others.  But  if  I 
erred,  it  was  in  weakness,  and  I  cannot  now 
help  it.  Would  to  heaven  it  were  in  my  power 
to  act  as  justly  by  others.  Perhaps  it  may  be, 
in  time.  But,  now,  those  dependent  upon  me 
claim  my  first  consideration." 

It  so  happened,  that  a  short  time  before  Mr 
Coleman's  failure,  he  had  paid  a  half-yearly  Col- 
lege term  in  advance  for  his  son.  The  addi- 
tional expense  for  the  four  months  that  now 
remained  would  be  for  boarding,  and  this  it 
was  thought  best  to  pay,  and  let  Henry  remain 
where  he  was  for  the  present. 

In  the  settlement  of  Mr.  Coleman^s  affairs 
under  the  assignment,  Mr.  Evertonwas  thrown 
out  of  any  advantage  his  judgment  upon  the 
stock  in  the  store  would  give  him  He  was 
very  angry  at  this,  and  charged  dishonorable 
conduct  and  a  want  of  good  faith  upon  the  un- 
happy debtor,  at  the  same  time  that  he  threat- 
ened him  with  the  worst  consequences  that  he 
9 


98  BEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

could  inflict,  if  he  ever  got  him  into  his  power. 
It  was  in  vain  that  Coleman  assured  him  that 
all  control  over  his  property  was  taken  out  ol 
his  hands  before  his  notes  came  due.  To  this 
he  replied,  that  it  was  his  duty,  immediately 
his  affairs  became  so  entangled  that  he  could 
not  go  on,  to  confess  a  judgment  in  his  favor, 
thus  anticipating  the  action, of  the  provisional 
one  he  held,  and  giving  him  a  chance  to  secure 
himself  before  the  other  creditors  could  come 
in. 

"  No  matter  what  I  had  done,"  Coleman 
sighed  to  myself,  "  somebody  would  have  felt 
aggrieved.  It  is  difficult  for  a  man  to  lose  his 
property,  and  not  feel  angry  at  the  instrument 
of  his  loss." 

At  first,  Coleman  sought  employment  at  a 
salary,  but  nothing  presented  itself.  He  then 
began  to  think  seriously  of  commencing  busi- 
ness jn  a  small  way  upon  the  few  hundred  dol- 
lars he  had  obtained  from  the  sale  of  his  furni- 
ture. But  he  saw  that  it  would  be  folly  to  do 
this  unless  his  creditors  would  release  him  from 
the  balance  of  their  claims.  A  majority,  he 
knew,  would  grant  the  desired  release,  and  do 
it  cheerfully  ;  but  he  feared  that  others  would 
positively  refuse  to  sign  away  their  rights  to 
any  property  he  might  acquire  in  tho  future 


COMING    DOWN.  99 

It  was  a  duty,  however,  that  ho  owed  to  him- 
self and  family  to  make  the  effort,  and  he  did 
so.  Some,  upon  whom  he  called,  unhesitat- 
ingly agreed  to  do  what  he  wished  ;  others 
Baid,  that  if  all  the  rest  signed,  they  would  not 
refuse  to  do  so.  Some  wanted  time  to  con- 
sider. Among  those  to  whom  application  was 
made  was  Turner.  It  was  a  great  trial  for 
Coleman  to  apply  to  him;  but  duty  forced 
him  to  go,  although  he  felt  little  hope  of  a  fa- 
vorable result.  Unexpectedly,  Turner  received 
him  with  a  smile  instead  of  a  frown  ;  yet,  even 
in  the  smile,  he  could  detect  a  want  of  sin- 
cerity. 

"  My  wish  is,  Mr.  Turner,"  said  the  debtor, 
with  marked  embarrassment  in  his  voice,  "  to 
get  into  some  business,  if  possible,  that  will  en- 
able me  to  obtain  a  moderate  support  for  my 
family.  I  am  doing  nothing  at  present,  and 
you  are  aware,  that  I  have  a  good  many  who 
are  dependent  upon  me." 

"  What  is  your  son  doing  ?"  asked  Turner, 
his  tone  of  voice  and  his  manner  saying  very 
plainly — '  being  one  of  my  creditors,  I  have  a 
right  to  question  you  upon  everything  pertain- 
ing to  your  private  as  well  as  your  business 
affairs.' 


iOU  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

"  He  is  still  at  College,"  replied  Mr  Cole- 
man. 

"  At  College  !  Indeed !  How  can  you  af- 
ford to  keep  him  there  ?" 

"  It  happened  that  I  had  paid  a  term  in  ad- 
vance, very  shortly  before  I  gave  up  everything 
into  the  hands  of  my  creditors." 

"  Humph  !  Oh  !  Ah  !  That  term  has  not 
expired  yet  ?" 

"  No." 

"  You  don't  intend  keeping  him  at  College, 
of  course  ?" 

"  I  would  like  to  do  so ;  but  am  afraid  it  will 
not  be  in  my  power." 

"  Better  bring  him  home,  and  get  him  int/» 
some  business.  Henry  is  a  good  stout  boy 
How  old  is  he  ?» 

<:  Seventeen." 

"  A  very  good  age.  You  ought  by  all  mean? 
to  get  him  into  a  store,  and  make  him  support 
himself." 

"  He  has  talents  of  a  superior  order,  and  I 
feel  it  my  duty  to  give  him  every  possible  ad- 
vantage of  education." 

'c  But  you  are  not  able  to  do  so,  sir  ;  and 
are  wrong  to  think  of  it.  You  should  bring 
him.  home  at  once,  and  get  him  into  a  good 


COMING    DOWX.  101 

situation  But  what  were  you  saying  about 
business  r" 

"  I  was  saying,"  replied  Mr.  Coleman, 
"  that  I  wished,  if  possible,  to  commence  busi- 
ness again  in  a  small  way,  in  order  to  procure 
the  means  of  supporting  my  family.  I  have 
some  friends  who  will,  I  doubt  not,  aid  me,  if 
I  can  commence  the  world  again  with  my  hands 
free.  Nearly  all  of  my  creditors  upon  whom  1 
have  called,  agree  to  release  me,  and  give  me 
a  chance  for  my  life.  Will  you  do  the  same  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  Mr.  Coleman.  I'll  think 
about  that." 

"  Unless  you  do  so,  it  will  be  all  folly  for  me 
to  make  an  attempt  to  go  on  again.'' 

"  How  many  have  agreed  to  release  you  ?" 
asked  Turner. 

"Over  two-thirds." 

"  That's  very  fair.  Have  they  already 
signed  r" 

"  Oh,  no.  I  have  not  offered  a  paper  for 
signatures  yet." 

"  Why  don't  you  do  so  ?" 

"  It's  no  use  until  I  can  get  all  to  consent." 

"  Oh !     But  it  is   though,   Mr.   Coleman. 

Get  as  many  to  sign  as  you  can.     When  a 

name  is  down,  you  are  safe  for  so  much.     Even 

if  a  few,  at  la^t,  should  refuse  to  come  into  the 

9* 


102  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

irrangenient,  you  may  be  able  to  compromise 
with  them  on  terms  that  will  not  be  difficult  to 
meet.  As  for  instance,  as  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned, it  is  not  by  any  means  probable  that  I 
will  sign  away  my  claim  upon  you.  That  is  a 
thing  I  never  did  in  my  life,  and  very  much 
doubt  if  I  ever  will  do  it.  I  can  promise  you 
liberal  terms.  One,  two,  three,  even  four  or 
five  years,  with  interest ;  but  I  am  principled 
against  releasing  any  man  from  his  obligation 
to  pay  me  what  he  owes  me." 

"  If  all  act  upon  the  same  principle,  Mr 
Turner,  my  case,  and  the  case  of  every  other 
man  who  happens  to  be  unfortunate,  is  hope- 
less." 

"  But  all  do  not  act  as  I  do.  Some  think 
differently  and  act  differently." 

"  Yes,  and  thank  God  for  it !"  responded 
Coleman,  involuntarily  expressing,  and  with 
some  warmth,  what  he  felt.  But  neither  his 
words  nor  the  manner  in  which  they  were  ut- 
tered, appeared  in  the  least  to  offend  his  cre- 
ditor, who  was  coolly  playing  his  game,  with 
the  set  purpose  of  ruining — for  he  knew  well 
the  hand  of  his  opponent. 

"  True,"  he  said — "  Every  man  looks  to  hia 
own  interest,  and  one  seeks  it  one  way  and 
one  in  an  other.  My  way  is  to  obtain  what 


COMING    DOWN.  103 

is  duo  me  if  possible,  without  circumlocution. 
I  do  not  release  a  debtor,  and  then  trust  to  get 
my  own  out  of  him  by  taking  advantage  of  his 
gratitude.  No.  But  I  give  him  as  much  time 
as  he  can  reasonably  ask,  and  wait  patiently 
until  he  is  in  a  condition  to  pay  me.  Can  any 
honest  man  ask  more  ?•" 

"  If  you  do  not  release  me,  others  will  not," 
said  Coleman,  in  an  altered  voice,  that  camo 
up  from  his  throat,  dry  and  husky. 

"  You  don't  know  any  such  thing.  Try. 
Get  your  papers  made  out,  and  go  to  some  one 
whom  you  know  will  sign.  There  will  be 
plenty  to  follow,  after  he  puts  his  name  down. 
All  you  obtain  in  this  way  will  be  so  much 
gained.  If  any  refuse,  get  one,  or  two,  01 
even  three  influential  men  who  have  signed  to 
go  to  them  and  use  their  best  efforts  to  make 
them  change  their  purpose.  My  word  for  it, 
you  will  soon  have  nearly  all  your  indebtedness 
wiped  out." 

"  And  will  you  not,  then,  make  one  with  so 
large  and  magnanimous  a  company  ?"  said 
Coleman. 

"  I  think  not.  But  have  no  fear  about  my 
opposing  you.  There  is  no  such  intention  in 
my  mind.  You  may  depend  upon  my  making 
everything  as  easy  for  you  as  you  could  wish." 


(04  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR 

It  was  all  in  vain  that  Cole  man  urged  this 
man.  He  remained  firm  He  next  got  a 
friend  to  see  Ever  ton. 

"  Tell  him  no,"  said  that  individual,  angrily. 
"  He  played  me  false,  and  I  will  never  forgive 
him." 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,"  urged  the  friend,  "  he 
meant  to  act  fairly  towards  you.  Circumstan- 
ces he  did  not  expect  to  occur  prevented.  To 
my  certain  knowledge,  he  was  making  most 
desperate,  and,  I  think,  unjustifiable  sacrifices 
of  the  interests  of  others  in  order  to  meet  your 
notes.  And  these  very  acts  so  deeply  incensed 
certain  of  his  creditors  against  him,  that  they 
would  not  consent  to  his  having  any  agency  in 
the  settlement  of  his  affairs.  When  the  worst 
came  to  the  worst,  those  who  assumed  the  con- 
trol of  his  business  could  not  see  that  you  were 
entitled  to  any  more  consideration  than  others.'' 

"  He  could  have  secured  me  if  he  had  seen 
proper  ;  and  his  failing  to  do  so  is  an  exhibi- 
tion of  bad  faith,  for  which  I  will  not  forgive 
him." 

"  But  think,  Mr.  Everton,  of  his  family. 
They  have  not  injured  you ;  and,  unless  he  is 
free  to  go  into  business  again,  through  the  aid 
of  a  few  friends,  his  wife  and  children  must  be 
the  sufferers." 


COMING    DOWN.  105 

"  I  can't  help  it.     That  is  their  misfortune." 

"  You  surely  would  not  visit  them  so  severe- 
ly, Mr.  Everton." 

"  I  have  already  told  you,  sir,"  he  replied, 
in  a  way  that  was  felt  to  be  insulting,  "  that  I 
will  not  release  this  man  from  the  claim  I  hold 
against  him  ;  so  it  is  useless  to  argue  with  me 
about  it.  Men  that  act  as  he  acted  must  be 
made  to  feel  the  consequences  of  their  own 
deeds." 

The  friend  of  Coleman  turned  from  him  and 
vent  away. 

The  poor  debtor,  when  he  heard  the  result 

f  this  application,  became  deeply  depressed 

in  spirits.     The  rift  in  the  cloud  through  which 

light  had  come,  suddenly  closed  up,  and  all 

was  dark  again — darker  than  before. 

Friends,  for  in  his  misfortunes  he  still  had 
friends,  and  they  were  of  those  who  had  suf- 
fered much  by  him — friends  advised  him  to  do 
as  Turner  had  suggested,  and  see  how  many  of 
his  creditors  would  sign  an  unconditional  re- 
lease. A  few  of  them  led  off  in  this  generous 
work,  and  used  their  influence  to  get  others 
to  imitate  their  good  example.  All,  finally, 
came  in  but  Turner  and  Everton,  and  these  two, 
no  influence  could  reach.  The  hope  of  get- 
ting every  cent  that  was  due  to  him  influenced 


106  DEBTOR  AND  CREDITOR. 

the  on<;,  and  anger  at  having,  as  he  imagined^ 
been  dealt  by  unfairly,  extinguished  in  the 
breast  of  the  other,  every  feeling  of  humanity. 
Reluctant  as  he  was  to  do  so,  Coleman  at 
last  consented  to  give  Turner  his  notes  at  three, 
four,  and  five  years,  with  interest  added  for  the 
assumed  balance  of  three  thousand  dollars  that 
would  remain  due  after  the  settlement  of  the 
old  business  under  the  assignee.  He  then  re- 
commenced business  in  a  small  way,  resolved 
to  brave  the  chances  of  Everton's  coming  down 
upon  him,  if  he  really  meant  to  do  so 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


IT  never  happens  that  a  family  falls  from  its 
place  in  the  social  circle  by  misfortune,  without 
having  to  bear  the  painful  severance  of  many 
cherished  ties.  The  family  of  Mr.  Coleman 
was  not,  of  course,  exempt  from  this  conse- 
quence. At  first,  the  shock  of  the  fall,  and  the 
earnestness  with  which  each  member  entered 
into  the  new  arrangements  that  were  necessary 


EFFECTS.  107 

fa  their  reduced  circumstances,  kept  them  from 
feeling  that  void  and  loneliness,  and  sense  of 
desertion  that  was  to  come.  But,  after  they 
had  retired  from  their  elegant  residence,  and 
had  shrunk  together  in  the  small,  plainly 
furnished,  and  humble  abode  that  was  now  their 
home  ;  and  after  a  few  weeks  had  passed,  dur- 
ing which  but  few  indeed  of  their  old  frienda 
visited  them,  the  spirits  of  Marion,  particularly, 
began  to  droop. 

Marion  had  been  a  favorite  in  the  circle 
where  she  moved.  Familiar  with  gay  company, 
and  courted  and  caressed  wherever  she  went,  it 
is  not  surprising  that  she  should  be  seriously 
affected  by  the  change,  notwithstanding  the 
strong  efforts  reason  prompted  her  to  make  in 
order  to  compel  herself  to  bear  their  altered  lot 
with  patience.  As  days  and  weeks  went  by, 
her  parents  noticed  that  her  face  became  more 
and  more  pensive ;  and  that  her  eye  had  a 
dreamy  look,  and  often  drooped  wearily  when 
she  was  not  conscious  that  any  were  observing 
her. 

There  was  a  cause  for  this  that  lay  deeper 
than  the  mere  change  in  their  outward  circum- 
stances, or  the  seclusion  from  society  and  old 
friends  consequent  thereon.  Marion's  heart 
had  felt  some  thrills  of  an  emotion  tenders?  "<ur 


108  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

than  any  that  spring  from  mere  friendship 
There  was  a  voice,  the  tones  of  which  were 
ever  in  her  ears  ;  and  a  face  and  form  of  manly 
beauty  and  bearing,  that  was  ever  present  to 
her  eyes.  Months  before  misfortunes  had 
driven  her  out  from  the  circle  where  sho  had 
shone  as  a  bright  and  attractive  star,  one, 
favored  in  her  eyes  above  the  rest,  had  lingered 
often  by  her  sido,  his  voice  falling  into  a  lower 
and  more  earnest  expression  when  he  addressed 
her.  He  had  never  spoken  of  love  ;  but,  still, 
she  felt  that  he  regarded  her  with  tender  feel- 
ings ;  and  as  for  her  own  heart,  his  image  had 
fallen  upon  it  and  remained,  not  merely  reflected 
there,  but  fixed  in  a  permanent  impression. 

To  her  humbler  abode,  this  person,  who  had 
visited  her  often  before,  did  not  come  ;  and  as 
Marion  no  longer  made  one  in  the  old  circle, 
she  did  not  meet  him  abroad.  The  maiden 
now  first  became  aware  of  the  real  nature  of 
her  feelings.  She  found  that  she  was  more 
deeply  interested  in  one  who  had  never  spoken 
a  word  of  love,  than  she  had  for  a  moment 
dreamed;  and  that  the  bare  thought  of  meeting 
him  no  more,  except  casually  and  as  a  stranger, 
made  her  heart  tremble  and  sink  heavily  upon 
her  bosom. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Marion  argued  against 


EFFECTS.  109 

what  she  called  a  weakness ;  it  was  in  vain  that 
she  strode  to  rise  superior  to  feelings  that  she 
reproved  herself  for  suffering  to  tremble  in  her 
bosom.  Her  heart  had  been  touched  ;  and  the 
impression  left  could  not  be  effaced.  She  loved  ; 
but,  alas  !  in  loving,  she  felt  that  her  love  was 
hopeless.  This  being  so,  it  is  not  strange  that 
she  soon  began  to  droop  in  the  new  atmosphere 
to  which  she  had  been  removed,  in  spite  of  all 
her  efforts  to  be  cheerful  and  contented. 

The  changed  circumstances  of  Mr.  Coleman, 
brought  many  new  duties  upon  his  wife  and 
eldest  daughter.  Into  all  these  Marion  entered 
with  a  willing  heart ;  and  in  their  performance 
her  spirit  was  sustained,  though  not  fully.  But 
for  these  her  cheek  would  have  been  paler,  her 
eye  dimmer,  and  her  heart  sadder. 

The  real  cause  of  Marion's  depressed  spirits, 
her  parents  did  not  know.  That  it  sprung  not 
from  the  mere  fact  of  their  changed  circum- 
stances, they  felt  sure ;  for  she  had  from  the 
first,  with  a  readiness  not  expected,  assented  to 
every  proposition  of  retrenchment,  and  actively 
joined  in  carrying  out  what  had  been  deter- 
mined upon. 

"I  am  afraid,"  said  Mr.  Coleman,  in  speak- 
ing of  Marion.  "  that,  unknown  to  us,  her  heart 
10 


10  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR 

feas  been  interested  in  some  one.  And  that  oui 
reverses  have  estranged  him  from  her." 

"  I  know  not,"  replied  the  mother.  "  But 
;t  may  be  so.  Something  lies  heavy  at  her 
heart.  Several  times  I  have  come  suddenly 
upon  her  and  found  her  in  tears  ;  and  often,  as 
she  goes  about  in  the  earnest,  and,  I  know, 
willing  performance  of  the  many  household 
duties  that  devolve  upon  her,  I  can  hear  a  low, 
half  checked  sigh,  struggling  up  from  her 
bosom." 

"  That  she  should  be  a  sufferer  more  than 
the  rest  of  us,  grieves  me  beyond  what  I  can 
tell,"  said  Mr.  Coleman.  "  Alas  !  when  mis- 
fortune visits  us,  we  know  not  where  its  hand 
will  rest  most  heavily." 

"  And  yet,"  replied  the  mother,  "  we  must 
try  and  be  comforted,  even  with  regard  to  her, 
by  the  assurance,  that  no  visitations  of  paiu 
are  permitted,  except  for  good." 

"  We  know  that ;  for  we  cannot  believe  in  a 
wise  and  good  Providence,  and  think  differently. 
But,  pain  is  ever  grievous  to  be  borne  ;  and  to 
sea  those  we  love  compelled  to  suffer  pain,  is 
harder  than  to  bear  it  ourselves." 

"  Not  one  of  Marion's  young  friends  have 
been  to  see  her,'  said  the  mother;  ''  yet  there 


EFFECTS.  1  I  1 

were  many  to  visit  her  and  profess  the  warmest 
affection  but  a  few  short  months  ago.  Is  it 
possible  for  her  not  to  feel  this  change  ?  And 
may  it  not  be  that  this  entire  separation  from 
companions  whom  she  loved,  is  the  cause  of 
her  depressed  feelings  ?" 

"  It  may  be  to  some  extent.  But  to  my 
mind  it  is  plain  that  some  deeper  cause  affects 
her  spirits." 

"  And  if  the  cause  be  what  you  suppose,  time 
alone  can  heal  it." 

"  And  healing,  may  leave  a  disfiguring 
wound.  Ah,  me  !  it  grieves  me  to  the  heart, 
this  visiting  of  my  misfortunes  upon  my  chil- 
dren. Would  to  Heaven  I  could  boar  all  the 
consequences  myself !  How  light — lighter  than 
a  feather — compared  to  the  weight  laid  upon 
me  and  mine,  are  the  consequences  of  my  fail- 
ure upon  each  of  my  creditors  !  And  yet, 
there  are  some  of  them  who  never  meet  me, 
without  seeking  to  make  the  weight  I  bear 
heavier  by  a  rebuking  word  or  look  ;  or  some- 
thing to  remind  me  that  I  have  wronged  them 
out  of  a  few  hundred  dollars.  It  may  be  that 
I  have,  in  my  days  of  prosperity,  suffered  my- 
self to  feel  and  act  towards  an  unfortunate 
debtor  as  some  of  my  creditors  now  act  towards 
me.  If  so,  perhaps  I  ought  not  to  complain 


112  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

But,  if  ever  I  bear  that  relation  again  towards 
the  unfortunate,  I  will  try  not  to  add  a  single 
drop  to  the  bitterness  of  a  cup  already  too 
Heavily  drugged." 

The  young  man  who  had  awakened  an  inte- 
rest in  the  heart  of  Marion,  was  named  Edwaid 
Manning.  He  was  a  relative  of  Everton,  the 
individual  who  was  so  angry  at  Coleman  on 
account  of  the  loss  he  had  sustained  through 
his  failure  in  business.  Manning  had  not  been 
very  intimate  with  Marion,  although  he  had 
called  upon  her  several  times  at  her  father's 
house,  and  met  her  frequently  in  company. 
He  had  always  liked  her;  and  had  never  passed 
an  hour  in  her  company  without  seeing  some 
trait  of  character  that  had  charmed  him  for  its 
truth, -beauty,  or  sweet  simplicity.  But,  he  had 
never  approached  her  as  a  lover  ;  had  never, 
in  any  way,  sought  to  interest  her  feelings. 
After  her  father's  failure  and  the  retiring  of  the 
family  from  the  circle  of  wealth  and  fashion 
they  had  once  graced,  Manning  no  longer  met 
the  lovely  maiden,  although  she  did  not,  en- 
tirely, pass  from  his  thoughts. 

Everton,  who  was  the  uncle  of  Manning, 
frequently  spoke  of  Coleman  in  his  presence, 
about  the  time  of  the  failure,  in  terms  of  strong 
reprehension ;  and,  without  looking  very  closely 


NOBLE    SELF-DEVOTION.  113 

into  the  affair,  the  nephew  took  it  for  granted 
that  Coleraan  had  not  acted  in  an  honorable 
manner.  For  the  sake  of  Marion,  he  felt  some 
regret  that  it  was  so. 

How  little  hope  there  was  for  the  weary- 
hearted  maiden,  is  apparent  from  what  has 
been  written.  Manning  was  not  a  lover,  and 
had  never  thought  of  becoming  one.  Had  the' 
lovely  girl  remained  in  the  old  place,  and 
among  her  old  friends  for  a  little  while  longer, 
his  heart  might  have  yielded  to  the  power  of 
her  charms.  But  as  it  was,  Marion  was  little 
more  to  him  than  a  pleasant  friend,  the  parting 
from  which  caused  only  a  few  regrets. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

NOBLE    SELF    DEVOTION. 

Ai  soon  as  the  arrangement  spoken  of  in  a 
preceding  chapter  had  been  made,  Mr.  Cole- 
man  re-commenced  business,  though  in  a  small 
way,  trusting  that  Everton  would  not  moles* 
him  until  he  could  get  in  a  position  to  sustain 
10* 


114  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

himself.  In  order,  however,  to  prevent  the 
goods  he  might  purchase  from  others  on  credit, 
as  well  as  the  little  stock  his  own  small  capital 
could  procure,  from  being  seized  and  sold  at 
any  moment  by  his  still  angry  creditor,  he 
confessed  a  judgment  in  favor  of  three  or  four 
of  his  friends  from  whom  he  purchased  goods, 
in  order  to  give  them  the  fullest  legal  control 
over  every  thing,  if  Everton  commenced  pro- 
ceedings against  him. 

But  the  fact  that  Everton  maintained  a 
hostile  attitude,  prevented  a  number  of  those 
with  whom  he  would  have  been  glad  to  make 
small  bills,  from  selling  him  goods.  They  were 
afraid  to  -un  any  risks.  His  business,  in  con- 
sequencev  continued  to  be  light,  and  the  pro- 
ceeds barely  sufficient,  even  with  the  strictest 
economy,  to  meet  the  wants  of  his  family. 

The  time  for  which  Mr.  Coleman  had  paid 
for  his  son's  instruction  at  College  was  about 
expiring,  and,  contrary  to  his  hopes  and  wishes, 
it  was  plain  that  Henry  would  have  to  come 
home. 

"  There  is  scarcely  any  sacrifice  I  would  not 
make  to  keep  that  boy  where  he  is,"  he  said, 
one  evening,  when  they  were  speaking  on  the 
Bubject.  "  One  with  his  talent,  should  havo 


NJBLE    SELF-DEVOTION.  lit) 

every  opportunity  ;  but,  alas  !  it  is  out  of  my 
power  to  give  him  any  further  advantages.  He 
must  come  home." 

"  It  grieves  me  to  think  of  it,"  replied  Mrs. 
Coleman.  "  But  it  can't  be  helped.  The 
expense,  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  bear." 

"  It  will  go  hard  with  the  poor  boy.  To  fine 
talent,  he  adds  ambition.  He  looks  forward  to 
a  brilliant  career — to  a  high  place.  What 
effect  the  disappointment  may  have  upon  him, 
none  can  tell.  It  would  have  been  far  better 
if  he  had  never  gone  to  College  :  if  he  had,  a 
year  ago,  been  put  to  business." 

"  Let  us  not  imagine  the  worst,"  said  the 
mother,  while  tears  came  into  her  eyes.  "  We 
must  do  to  the  utmost  of  our  ability  for  our 
children :  and  then  trust  that  all  will  come  out 
right." 

During  the  period  of  thoughtful  silence  that 
followed  this  conversation,  Marion  left  the  room 
and  retired  to  her  own  chamber.  She  had  all 
a  sister's  fervent  and  devoted  love  for  her 
brother.  What  her  father  and  mother  said, 
filled  her  with  exquisite  pain.  How  earnestly 
did  her  own  heart  respond  to  the  sentiment  of 
her  father,  who  alledged  that  there  was  scarce- 
ly any  sacrifice  he  would  not  make  in  order  to 
continue  to  Henry  the  advantages  he  now  en« 


lib  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

joyed  But  the  same  hopelessness  that  they 
felt,  oppressed  her  heart,  and  caused  her  tc 
vrcep  bitterly  for  a  long  time.  Then  her 
thoughts  became  active,  and  she  mused  and 
pondered  over  one  suggestion  and  another  that 
came  into  her  mind,  as  she  sat  by  her  "window, 
and  looked  out  upon  the  sky  over  which  the 
moon  had  thrown  a  soft  light.  Thus  she  sat 
and  mused  until  long  after  every  other  member 
of  the  family  had  retired  to  rest,  when,  she  at 
last  sought  her  pillow,  her  active  mind  kept  her 
awake  for  hours. 

In  the  morning,  her  parents  observed  a  change 
in  the  expression  of  her  countenance.  Her 
cheeks  were  slightly  flushed,  her  lips  had  a  firm 
compression,  and  there  was  an  earnest,  steady 
look  about  her  eyes  that  was  .unusual.  They 
again  conversed  about  Henry,  and  Mr.  Coleman 
said  he  should  write  in  a  day  or  two  for  him  to 
come  home.  But  Marion  made  no  remark  on 
the  subject. 

Shortly  after  breakfast,  Marion  came  down 
from  her  room,  dressed  to  go  out.  Mrs.  Cole- 
man  looked  surprised  at  so  unusual  a  circum- 
stance, and,  naturally,  asked  where  she  was 
going.  This  question  the  daughter  did  not 
answer  directly,  but  partly  evaded  it  That 
something  of  more  than  usual  interest  wn  on 


NOBLE    SELF-DEVOTION.  117 

her  mind  the  mother  saw,  but  did  not  urge  her 
to  say  what  it  was. 

The  purpose  that  Marion  had  in  view  appear- 
ed to  be  well  determined  in  her  mind,  for,  on 
leaving  home,  she  walked  rapidly  toward  that 
part  of  the  town  in  which  she  had  formerly 
lived.  Pausing,  at  last,  before  a  handsome 
house,  she  ascended  the  steps,  and  rang  at  the 
street  door.  On  being  admitted,  she  gave  the 
servant  her  name,  and  was  shown  into  the  par- 
lor. In  a  few  minutes,  a  lady  entered,  and 
taking  her  hand,  said,  in  a  tone  of  kindness  and 
interest, 

"  My  dear  Miss  Coleman  !  how  do  you  do  ? 
I  am  glad  to  meet  you." 

Marion  had  not  expected  a  cordial  welcoming 
like  this  from  one  of  her  old  and  fashionable 
friends  ;  and  it  took  her  so  much  by  surprise, 
that  when  she  attempted  to  reply,  her  quivering 
lips  refused  to  give  her  utterance. 

"  Sit  down,  dear,"  said  the  lady,  kindly, 
seeing  that  Marion,  who  had  arisen  on  her  en- 
trance, was  so  much  disturbed.  "  Sit  down 
Why  have  you  not  been  to  see  me  before.  I 
have  thought  of  you  often,  very  often  ;  and  have 
several  times  been  on  the  eve  of  trying  to  look 
you  up.  Come,  take  off  your  things  ;  and  notf 
that  you  are  here,  let  us  have  a  long  talk." 


118  DEBTOR    ANr    CREDITOR. 

U  No,  I  thank  you,  Mrs.  Henderson,"  re- 
turned Marion,  regaining,  to  some  extent,  her 
self-possession.  "  I  cannot  stay  but  a  little 
while.  I  only  wanted  to  see  you  on  a  particu- 
lar subject." 

And  again  Marion's  voice  trembled. 
"  My  young  friend,"  said  the  lady,  affec- 
tionately, as  she  took  hold  of  her  bonnet  strings 
in  a  familiar  way  and  untying  them  ;  "  having 
got  you  here,  I  do  not  intend  letting  you  run 
away  in  a  minute.  You  know  I  am  your  friend. 
If  you  have  anything  to  say  to  me,  say  it  fully 
and  freely." 

As  Mrs.  Henderson  uttered  the  last  sen- 
tence, she  removed  the  bonnet  of  Marion,  and 
the  young  girl  drooped  forward,  and  hid  her 
tearful  face  against  her. 

In  a  little  while  she  became  composed,  and 
looking  up,  said,  in  a  voice  still  tremulous — 

"  Your  kindness,  dear  Madam,  has  touched 
my  heart  Forgive  me  that  I  cannot  hide  tho 
emotions  with  which  it  is  swelling.  It  is  months 
since  my  father's  misfortunes  removed  us  from 
fcmong  our  former  friends,  and  since  that  time, 
yours  is  the  kindest,  and  almost  the  only  one  of 
the  old  faces  that  has  looked  upon  me,  ^idyour 
voice  the  only  one  that  has  come  to  my  ears 
laden  with  old  affections." 


NOBLE    SELF-DfiVOTION.  119 

*'  Can  this  bo  possible,  my  young  friend  !"  said 
Airs.  Henderson.  "  Has  the  desertion,  then, 
been  so  complete  ?  But  am  I  less  to  blame 
than  others  ?  No,  I  am  not.  Still,  Marion, 
I  did  not  cease  to  think  of  you.  The  truth  is, 
I  did  not  know  to  what  part  of  the  town  you 
had  removed.  Though  I  will  not  offer  that  as 
an  excuse,  for  I  might  easily  have  obtained  that 
information  if  I  had  sought  to  do  so.  Forgive 
the  neglect,  and  rest  assured  that  it  did  not 
proceed  from  my  heart.  Though  you  have 
suffered  misfortune,  are  you  not  still  the  same 
and  as  worthy  of  my  regard  as  ever.  And  I 
know  you  have  still  many  friends  in  the  old 
circle  who  will  be  glad  to  see  you  again.  But 
how  is  your  excellent  mother  ?" 

"  She  is  well — very  well." 

"  And  how  docs  she  bear  the  severe  reverse 
with  which  you  have  been  visited?" 

"  She  bears  it  like  a  true  woman,"  replied 
Marion,  "  patiently  and  hopefully." 

"  Like  a  true  woman  as  she  is.  I  have  been 
greatly  to  blame  for  not  having,  long  ago, 
sought  her  out  in  her  retirement.  When  she 
was  with  us,  I  always  looked  upon  her  as  one  of 
the  best  of  us  Tell  her  that  I  will  be  to  sen 
her  very  soon." 


120  DEUTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

"  Thank  you,  in  her  name,"  said  Marion 
"  She  will  appreciate  the  kindness." 

"  And  now,  my  young  friend,  say  to  me 
freely,  what  you  came  to  say.  If  in  anything 
I  can  serve  you,  to  do  so  will  be  one  of  the 
pleasantest  acts  of  my  life." 

After  a  few  moments'  silence,  Marion  said — 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,  my  dear  madam,  how  much 
your  kindness  touches  me.  I  did  not  expect 
to  be  received  so  warmly,  even  by  you,  towards 
whom,  permit  me  to  say,  my  thoughts  have 
often  turned,  while  my  heart  has  felt  warmer 
as  your  face  came  distinctly  before  my  mind. 
But,  as  all  the  rest  have  been,  so  I  expected  to 
find  you,  too,  changed  and  cold." 

"  Do  not  say,  Marion,  that  all  have  changed 
I  know  that  it  is  not  so.  But  the  fear  lest  a  visit 
to  your  new  and  humble  home  might  seem  an  in- 
trusion and  be  unwelcome,  I  am  sure  has  kept 
many  an  old  friend  who  would  have  been  glad  to 
grasp  your  hand  again,  from  coming  to  see  you. 
Something  of  this  feeling  has  been  in  my  own 
mind.  It  is  wrong,  I  know,  to  let  such  a  feel- 
ing influence  us  ;  but  little  impulses  and  feel- 
ings often  interfere  with  the  doing  of  things  from 
which  our  own  hearts  would  receive  a  high 
gratification  The  neglect  of  those  who  falJ 


NOBLE    SELF-DEVOTION.  121 

rnto  advevsity  docs  not  always  arise  from  pride 
or  indifference  in  their  old  friends.  They 
much  oftener  think  of  them  with  heart-warm 
sympathy,  than  with  coldness.  As  for  you  and 
your  family  I  know  that  a  kind  and  generous 
feeling  prevails." 

"  It  may  be  so,  Mrs.  Henderson,"  returned 
Marion  ;  "  but  it  is  hard  for  us  to  believe  it, 
when  there  comes  no  token  of  kind  remem- 
brance. The  sufferer,  in  his  pain,  is  very  apt 
to  think  that  none  but  those  who  express  their 
feelings,  sympathize  with  him." 

"  And  yet,  your  own  experience,  Marion, 
will  tell  you  that  this  is  not  so.  That,  often 
the  warmest  sympathies  are  felt,  where,  from 
some  cause  or  other,  there  is  no  expression. 
1  do  not  mean  to  justify  the  want  of  expression, 
but  only  speak  of  it  as  a  fact." 

"  I  acknowledge  the  truth  of  what  you  say," 
replied  Marion,  "  and  am  now  less  willing  than 
before  to  attribute  the  neglect  we  have  experi- 
enced to  indifference  in  every  instance.  But, 
Mrs.  Henderson,  let  me  speak  on  the  subject 
of  my  errand,  and  I  will  speak  the  more  freely 
now  that  you  meet  me  in  such  a  generous  spirit. 
My  brother  Henry,  who  is  in  his  eighteenth 
year,  was  at  college  when  my  father's  circum- 
stances became  reduced,  and  has  remained 
11 


122  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

there  since,  an  advance  of  six  months  having 
been  paid  shortly  before  our  troubles  came  so 
suddenly  upon  us  But  father  is  not  able  to 
meet,  any  longer,  the  heavy  expense  attendant 
upon  a  college  course  ;  and  it  has  been  deter- 
mined to  bring  Henry  home  and  put  him  in  a 
store  in  order  to  learn  some  business.  Henry 
is  a  young  man  of  good  talents,  and  with  the 
advantages  of  a  liberal  and  thorough  education, 
would,  I  am  sure,  rise  as  a  man,  into  a  position 
of  eminence  and  usefulness.  The  bent  of  his 
mind  is  decidedly  literary,  and  in  one  of  the 
learned  professions  towards  which  we  have  all 
looked,  he  would  not  fail  to  distinguish  him- 
self. To  take  him  from  college  and  put  him 
into  a  store,  under  these  circumstances,  would 
be  to  discourage  him  completely,  and  per- 
haps do  him  an  injury  from  which  his  mind 
would  never  recover.  The  thought  of  this  has 
made  me  very  unhappy.  For  a  long  time  I 
lay  awake  last  night,  thinking  about  it,  and 
finally  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was 
clearly  my  duty  to  make  an  effort  to  keep  him 
where  he  is." 

"  But,  my  dear  Marion,"  said  Mrs.  Hender- 
son, "  what  can  you  do  ?" 

"  What  others  have  done.  I  have  read  of 
young  ladies,  who,  on  sinking  from  affluence 


NOBLE    SELF-DEVOTION.  123 

to  poverty,  have  turned  to  good  account  the 
education  they  possessed,  and  by  earnest  and 
well  applied  efforts,  saved  a  parent  or  others 
from  want.  I  have  a  good  education,  and  I 
believe  can  use  it." 

There  was  a  flush  of  generous  enthusiasm 
upon  the  face  of  the  ardent  girl  as  she  spoke. 

"  What  can  you  dor"  asked  her  auditor. 

"  I  heard  you,  about  a  year  ago,"  replied 
Marion,  speaking  now  with  some  hesitation, 
"  say,  that  if  you  could  get  a  person  who  suited 
you,  in  every  respect,  as  a  governess  for  your 
children,  you  would  take  her." 

"  I  did  say  so,"  was  the  prompt  answer  ; 
"  and  are  you,  Marion,  willing  to  assume  so 
responsible  and  arduous  a  task  ?" 

"  To  give  my  brother  the  advantages  of 
education,  which  to  him  are  so  all-important, 
I  would  do  anything  that  1  dared  do.  With 
such  an  end  in  view,  labor  would  be  sweet." 

"  My  excellent  young  friend,"  said  Mrs. 
Henderson,  speaking  with  a  good  deal  of  emo- 
tion, "  you  propose  to  yourself  a  sacrifice  ;  but 
it  is  a  noble  one.  The  fire  of  adversity  is  re- 
vealing the  pure  gold  of  your  character.  To 
Lave  one  like  you  for  the  governess  and  exem- 
plar of  my  children,  I  would  esteem  a  blessing 


124  DEBTOR  AND  CREDITOR. 

in  my  household.  And  you  arc-  really  in  earnest 
about  this,  Marion  r" 

But  Mar-ion  could  not  reply.  These  intima- 
tions that  her  petition  was  favorably  received, 
overcame  her.  Her  lips  moved,  but  she  had 
no  power  of  utterance.  Tears  came  to  her 
relief,  and  she  wept  again  freely. 

"  And  you  are  really  in  earnest  ?"  said  Mrs 
Henderson,  after  Marion  had  become  composed. 

"  Oh  yes,  ma'am.  Have  I  not  the  strongest 
reasons  for  being  in  earnest  ?  But  you  have 
not  replied  definitely  to  what  I  said.  Do  you 
still  desire  to  have  a  governess  for  your  chil- 
dren ?" 

"  I  do,  as  I  said,  long  ago,  if  I  can  find  the 
right  person." 

"  Will  I  not  suit  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  Marion,  in  every  way.  Though  I 
can  scarcely  realize  the  fact  that  you  are  to 
come  into  niy  house  in  the  capacity  of  a  gover- 
ness. But  if  you  will  come,  you  shall  be  the 
children's  preceptor  and  the  mother's  friend 
and  equal." 

"  Oh  how  happy  you  have  made  me,"  said 
Marion,  in  a  low  trembling  voice. 

"  Does  your  mother  know  of  this  ?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Henderson. 


NOBLE    SELF-DEVOTION.  125 

"Oh  no!" 

"  Will  she  and  your  father  consent  to  this 
Arrangement  ?" 

"  In  order  to  secure  so  great  a  benefit  to 
Henry,  they  cannot  refuse  their  consent." 

"  Will  you  come  and  see  me  to-morrow  ?" 

"I  will." 

"  In  the  mean  time  I  will  converse  with  my 
husband,  and  fix  upon  the  compensation  we 
feel  willing  to  make  :  and  do  you  confer  with 
your  parents." 

When  Marion  left  the  house  of.  this  kind 
friend,  her  heart  was  bounding  with  a  deep  joy. 
In  the  wilderness  and  desert  place  a  spring  had 
gushed  forth,  and  she  was  refreshing  her  spirit 
with  draughts  of  its  cool  refreshing  water. 

On  the  next  day  she  called  upon  Mrs.  Hen- 
derson again,  and  was  received  with  a  kind- 
ness and  cordiality  that  was  truly  grateful. 

"  Have  you  conversed  with  your  father  and 
mother  on  the  subject  we  talked  of  yesterday  ?" 
p.he  asked,  soon  after  Marion  came  in. 

"  I  have,"  was*  replied. 

"  And  did  they  consent  to  the  proposed  ar- 
rangement ?" 

"  Not  for  some  time.  My  father's  '  No'  waa 
particularly  emphatic.  He  seemed  deeply  hurt 
at  the  thought.  But  I  argued  the  matter  as 
11* 


126  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

earnestly  as  I  could,  and  plead  the  cause  of 
Henry  so  eloquently — for  my  heart  was  in  the 
matter — that  he  at  length  yielded ;  but  seemed 
broken  down  and  distressed  at  the  stern  features 
of  a  lot  that  compelled  his  daughter,  in  whom  he 
feels  the  natural  pride  of  a  parent,  to  go  out 
from  home  and  give  her  labor  for  hire.  I  feel 
pained  for  him.  But  he  does  not  look  at  the 
matter  right.  To  me  it  will  be  a  labor  of  love, 
not  a  wearisome  task." 

"  I  know  how  your  father  must  feel.  I  know 
how  I  would  feel,"  said  the  lady.  "  But  we 
will  try  and  make  your  stay  in  our  house  as 
little  painful  to  both  yourself  and  parents  as 
possible.  Since  I  saw  you  I  have  talked  the 
matter  over  with  my  husband,  and  he  is  fully 
as  much  pleased  at  the  contemplated  arrange- 
ment as  I  am.  And  now,  we  will  speak  of  the 
terms  ;  and  if  you  are  pleased  with  them,  you 
can  come  into  our  family  and  irake  one  of 
us  whenever  you  are  prepared  to  do  so.  My 
husband  proposes  to  pay  every  expense  of  in- 
struction, boarding  and  clothing,  required  to 
keep  your  brother  at  college,  by  way  of  com- 
pensation for  your  services  as  the  governess  of 
our  children ;  and  to  do  this  until  his  full 
course  is  completed.  Will  that  do  ?" 

u  It  is  more,  much  more  than  I  expected," 


NOBLE    SELF-DEVOTION.  127 

replied  Marion.  "  Of  the  gratitude  I  feel,  I 
will  not  attempt  an  expression.  It  oppresses 
my  heart." 

"  The  obligation,  I  trust,  will  be  mutual 
If  you  are  satisfied  with  the  arrangement,  I  am 
very  sure  that  we  shall  not  regret  it." 

In  less  than  a  week  from  that  time,  Marion 
found  a  home  in  the  family  of  Mrs.  Henderson, 
and  was  treated  with  all  the  kindness  and  con- 
sideration of  a  friend  and  equal.  The  children 
soon  learned  to  respect  and  love  her,  for  she 
moved  before  them  with  so  much  dignity  and 
order,  softened  by  gentleness  and  true  affec- 
tion, that  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  feel  for 
her  any  other  sentiments.  As  Mrs.  Hender- 
son had  said  she  would  be,  she  proved  a  bless- 
ing in  the  house. 

But  there  was  one  thing  that  was  not  ac- 
cording to  the  wishes  of  this  lady.  She  was 
not  able  to  induce  Marion,  when  they  had  com- 
pany, to  appear  among  them.  On  such  occa- 
sions she  preferred  retiring  to  her  own  room, 
or  remaining  with  the  children.  It  was  in  vain 
that  Mrs.  Henderson  argued  with  and  entreated 
her.  Marion  was  firm. 

"It  is  better — much  better — "  she  would 
say,  "  for  me  to  keep  in  my  own  place.  There 
are  those  in  your  circle  who  cannot  regard  ma 


128  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

as  you  do  ;  but  who  will  repulse  me  because  I 
do  not  stand  upon  the  social  plane  they  occupy 
And  I  wish  to  avoid  everything  of  this  kind. 
To  others,  I  am  only  a  governess  in  your  fa- 
mily ;  and  for  me  to  attempt  to  go  beyond  this, 
would  be  felt  and  repulsed  as  an  intrusion." 

It  pained  Mrs.  Henderson  to  hear  Marion 
speak  in  this  way,  and  she  argued  against  her 
with  all  the  eloquence  she  could  command. 
But,  nothing  she  said,  in  the  least  moved  the 
noble-spirited  girl  from  her  resolution.  Her 
feelings  were  with  her  judgment,  and  the  two 
governed  her  actions. 

At  the  particular  and  earnest  request  of  Ma- 
rion, her  brother  was  not  informed  of  what  she 
had  done.  She  feared,  and  she  was  right  in 
her  fear,  that,  were  he  to  know  the  truth,  he 
would  not  remain  at  College  a  day.  His  vaca- 
tions were  spent  at  home,  and,  during  the  pe- 
riod, Marion  was  at  home  also ;  and  not  the 
first  suspicion  of  what  she  was  doing  ever  cross- 
ed his  mind.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Henderson  ap- 
preciating the  feeling  that  influenced  Marion, 
seconded  her  views,  and,  with  great  propriety 
and  delicacy,  placed  a  fund  at  her  disposal, 
upon  which  she  could  draw  whenever  it  waa 
necessary  to  send  money  or  pay  bills  for  her 
brother.  In  return  for  such  generous  kind- 


CHANGE    IN    AFFAIRS.  129 

ness,  she  devoted  herself  with  untirir^  assidu- 
ity to  their  children,  and  fully  repaid  ttcin  for 
all 


CHAPTER    X, 

SOME  CHANGE  IN  THE  ASPECT  OF   AFF,  'RS. 

IN  the  final  settlement  of  Mr.  Coleman's  af- 
fairs, the  dividend  to  the  creditors  was  little 
beyond  what  had  been  expected.  It  exceeded 
fifty  per  cent,  by  only  a  small  amount. 

In  his  new  business,  after  the  means  of  sup- 
porting Henry  at  College  was  secured,  things 
began  to  look  a  little  more  cheerful.  There 
was  a  steady  improvement,  and  the  promise  of 
increased  profits.  But  the  position  of  anta- 
gonism assumed  by  Everton,  and  the  remem- 
brance of  his  threat,  were  constant  sources  of 
anxiety.  Scarcely  a  day  passed,  that  he  did 
not  feel  in  dread  of  seeing  an  officer  enter  with 
a  writ.  Then,  there  was  the  fact,  that  every 
month  that  passed  brought  nearer  the  time  of 
payment  to  Turner,  without  showing  am  in- 
crease of  profits  adequate  to  the  demand  to 
come  upon  him. 


130  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

These  remaining  claims  against  Coleman 
were  felt  to  be  a  millstone  about  his  neck. 
Sometimes,  in  gloomy  and  desponding  states, 
created  by  the  fear  of  disastrous  consequences 
that  might  come  at  any  moment  when  he  be- 
gan to  -walk  a  little  erect  again,  he  felt  like 
giving  up 

"  Why  should  I  struggle  on,"  he  would  say 
to  himself,  when  these  moods  of  mind  oppressed 
him,  "  to  have  my  feet  tripped  up  again,  all 
my  fondly  cherished  prospects  ruined,  and 
others,  it  may  be,  involved  in  losses." 

But  these  states  would  pass  away  ;  and  be- 
coming more  cheerful,  Coleman  would  press  on 
in  his  business  with  an  energy  that  promised 
good  success. 

At  the  end  of  a  year,  Coleman  found  that 
he  had  done  very  well  on  his  limited  means. 
Besides  supporting  his  family,  he  had  been  able 
to  add  a  little  to  his  original  capital  in  trade  ; 
and  the  promise  was  very  fair  for  an  increase  of 
at  least  fifty  per  cent,  in  all  his  operations  dur- 
ing the  ensuing  twelve  months. 

Marion  still  remained  an  inmate  of  Mr. 
Henderson's  family,  beloved  and  esteemed  by 
every  member  of  it ;  and  Henry  was  still  pro- 
secuting his  studies  at  College. 

Turner,  in  the  mean  time,  had  not  done  so 


CHANGE    IN    AFFAIRS  131 

srell.  Direct  losses  and  bad  operations,  had 
made  rather  serious  work  with  his  business,  and 
he  began  to  be  hard  pressed  for  money.  One 
day,  he  took  up  the  three  notes  of  a  thousand 
dollars  each,  bearing  interest  from  date,  which 
he  had  received  from  Colcman,  and  began  to 
turn  over  in  his  mind  the  possibility  of  using 
them  in  some  way.  While  thinking  upon  the 
subject,  he  remembered  the  bitterness  with 
which  Everton  had  spoken  against  Coleman, 
and  his  threat  to  punish  him  if  he  should  ever 
get  him  into  his  power.  At  the  same  time  it 
occurred  to  him  that  he  might  be  able  to  make 
such  representations  to  Everton  as  would  in- 
duce him  to  buy  the  notes  at  a  heavy  dis- 
count. So,  with  this  in  his  mind  he  went  off  to 
see  him  ;  when  the  following  interview  took 
place — 

"  You  are  aware,  I  suppose,"  said  Turner, 
"that  our  old  friend  Coleman  is  doing  very 
well  again." 

"  Ah  !  is  that  so  ?"  replied  Everton,  mani- 
festing both  surprise  and  pleasure.  "  I  knew 
he  was  going  on  again,  but  had  not  learned 
anything  touching  his  prospects  in  busi- 
ness." 

"  I  am  told  by  those  wLo  know,"  said  Tur- 
ner,  u  that  his  affaire  ire  improving  steadily, 


132  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

and  that  there  is  a  good  chance  of  Lis  being  on 
his  feet  again,  in  a  few  years,  and  better  ofl 
than  ever." 

"  Is  there,  indeed  !  Blast  him  !  Then  I'll 
have  a  cut  at  him  pretty  soon.  I'll  never  for- 
give him  for  the  way  in  which  he  tricked  me 
out  of  about  seven  thousand  dollar? .  He  had 
the  cool  impudence  to  try  to  get  me  to  sign 
off;  but  his  efforts  proved  a  failure.  Release 
him !  Never  !" 

"  He  tried  me,  in  the  same  way,"  said  Tur- 
ner, "  but  I  never  released  a  man  in  my  life, 
and  never  will.  It  seems  to  me  to  be  the 
coolest  thing  in  the  world,  for  a  fellow  who 
owes  you  a  few  thousands  of  dollars,  to  come 
and  ask  you  to  sign  off  all  right,  title,  and  claim 
to  the  debt,  now,  henceforth,  and  for  ever.  I 
never  will  listen  to  any  such  proposition.  I 
will  give  a  debtor  liberal  time  to  recover  him- 
self. After  he  has  done  that,  I  expect  him  to 
pay  what  he  owes  me.  I'll  never  ask  a  man  to 
sign  off  his  claim  against  me." 

"  Nor  will  I.  But  as  for  this  fellow,  Cole 
man,  I  have  a  particular  grudge  against  him, 
and  intend  getting  satisfaction  the  moment  I 
think  he  has  gathered  enough  together  to  meet 
my  demand." 

Turner  knew,  very  well,  that  Everton  would 


CHANGE    IN    AFFAIRS  133 

fail  in  his  expectations  of  getting  his  demand 
satisfied,  if  he  used  stringent  measures  with 
Coleman  ;  for,  he  was  aware  that  everything 
he  had  was  protected  by  judgments,  which 
would  be  entered  up  the  moment  proceedings 
were  commenced  against  him.  But  this  fact 
he  chose  to  keep  to  himself. 

"  In  that  case,"  he  said,  "  you  will  run  him 
to  the  wall  before  the  notes  I  hold  have  ma- 
tured, which  will  not  be  within  two,  three,  and 
four  years." 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  injure  you,  Mr.  Tur- 
ner," replied  Everton,  and,  if  I  think  every- 
thing is  going  on  safely,  I  will  not  press  mat- 
ters. My  claim  will  be  for  principal  and 
interest  both,  and  I  think  the  investment  a 
very  good  one,  now  that  all  his  old  creditors 
but  you  and  I  have  signed  off." 

"  I  wish  you  would  buy  his  notes,"  said 
Turner,  coming  direct  to  the  subject  of  his 
visit.  "  I  find  myself,  just  now,  with  heavy 
payments  to  make,  and  would  like  very  much 
to  turn  this  paper  into  cash.  I  am  willing  to 
ssll  it  at  a  bargain.  These  notes,  with  inte- 
rest, added  to  your  own  claim,  also  bearing 
interest,  will,  in  about  four  years  from  this 
time,  when  he  is  fairly  going  again,  make  the 
Bum  of  nearly  thirteen  thousand  dollars  ;  an  i 
13 


134  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

enable  you  to  sweep  him  away,  root  and  branch, 
if  you  feel  so  disposed." 

"  What  is  your  claim  ?"  asked  Everton. 

"  Three  thousand  dollars,  in  notes  of  ono 
thousand  each,  at  three,  four,  and  five  years, 
bearing  interest.  One  year  has  already  ex- 
pired." 

"  For  what  will  you  sell  me  these  notes  ?" 

"  The  year's  interest  that  has  already  ac- 
crued, makes  the  amount  of  the  debt  at  this 
time  three  thousand,  one  hundred  and  eighty 
dollars.  I  will  take  twenty-five  hundred  dol- 
lars for  the  whole." 

Everton  mused  awhile,  and  then  said : 

"  You  think  he  is  going  on  prosperously  ?" 

"I  know  it." 

"  And  that,  by  the  time  the  notes  mature,  ho 
will  be  perfectly  able  to  pay  them  :" 

"  I  have  not  the  smallest  doubt  in  the  world' 
and,  if  I  were  not  hard  pressed  for  money, 
would  not  think  of  parting  with  the  claim." 

"  Very  well.  I  will  take  the  notes  ;  but  on 
slightly  different  terms  from  those  you  offer. 
I  haven't  two  thousand  dollars  in  cash  to  spare  ; 
and,  even  if  I  had,  I  would  not  feel  willing  to 
advance  money  on  such  security,  and  at  so  long 
a  time.  But  I  will  give  you  my  notes  for  two 
thousand  dollars,  at  two,  three,  and  four  years 


CHANGE    IN    AFFAIRS.  135 

to  fall  due  throe  or  four  days  after  the  notes  of 
Coleman  fall  due.  You  can  get  them  dis- 
counted easily  enough.'' 

Turner  shook  his  head  at  this  proposition 
It  was  so  different  from  what  he  had  made, 
that,  at  the  first  presentation  thereof,  he  could 
not  think  of  it  for  a  moment. 

"  It's  the  best  !  can  do,"  said  Everton. 

"  I  will  think  about  it,  and  see  you  this 
afternoon." 

"  Very  well.  If  that  operation  suits  you,  it 
can  be  made.  But  it's  the  best  you  can  do 
with  me." 

In  the  afternoon,  Turner  called  upon  Ever- 
ton, and  the  exchange  of  notes  took  place. 
After  trying  for  a  week  to  get  the  paper  of 
Everton  discounted  at  anything  like  fair  rates, 
he  finally  sold  them  at  a  discount  of  fifty  per 
cent,  on  the  whole  amount.  That  is,  he  got 
one  thousand  dollars  for  his  claim  against 
Coleman  of  three  thousand. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  in  seeking  to  console  him- 
self, "  I've  got  a  thousand  dollars  by  holding 
on  to  Coleman,  which  I  would  not  have  received 
if  I  had  released  him.  So  far  I  have  gained,  in 
every  case,  by  my  system.  Others  may  sign 
off  to  everybody  if  they  like  to  do  so,  but  my 
way  is  to  sign  off  to  nobody." 


136  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

During  the  second  year,  Mr.  Coleman's 
business  went  on  steadily  improving,  and  in  a 
ratio  considerably  beyond  his  expectations.  Ho 
was  gaining  ground  rapidly.  But  he  lived  in 
constant  fear  of  being  met  by  the  claim  oi 
Evcrton,  and  knocked  down  again  ;  and  failed 
to  take  advantage  of  many  opportunities  of 
profit,  lest  others,  who  were  ready  to  extend 
him  greater  facilities  than  he  had,  should  be 
thrown  into  a  loss  by  the  breaking  up  of  his 
business,  if  his  creditor  commenced  legal  pro- 
ceedings against  him.  But  for  this  obstruction 
in  his  way,  he  would  have  recovered  himself 
rapidly.  As  it  was,  his  progress  was  slow,  yet 
steady  and  encouraging. 

In  the  case  of  Turner,  affairs  continued  to 
assume  a  discouraging  aspect.  He  met  with 
still  heavier  losses,  and  made  more  serious 
miscalculations  than  he  had  made  in  the  year 
before.  For  a  greater  part  of  the  time  he  was 
hard  pressed  for  money,  and  in  the  hands  of 
"  shavers"  almost  constantly.  What  they 
drained  from  him  was  nearly  equal  to  the  profit 
of  the  whole  year's  business. 

At  length,  the  first  note  given  by  Coleman 
to  Turner  fell  due,  and  he  was  not  in  a  condi- 
tion to  lift  it  without  making  a  sacrifice.  As  the 
note  had  been  extorted  from  him  at  a  time  when 


CHANGE    IN    AFFAIRS.  137 

ho  could  not  help  himself,  and  as  it  gave  to 
Turner  an  undue  advantage  over  the  other 
creditors  ;  and  as  the  payment  of  it  would  take 
that  much  from  his  business  and  be  a  serious 
drawback  upon  him,  Coleman,  under  the  advice 
of  his  friends,  gave  notice  that  he  could  not 
take  it  up.  Turner  called  upon  him  imme- 
diately, and  said — 

"  I  cannot  do  anything  in  this  matter.  The 
note  is  out  of  my  hands." 

"  That  does  not  alter  the  case,"  replied 
Coleman,  firmly.  "  You  forced  me  to  give  the 
note ;  and  now  that  it  is  due,  I  do  not  feel 
myself  able  to  take  it  up." 

"  You  will  have  to  take  it  up,  for  I  have  not 
the  slightest  control  over  it." 

"  No.  As  I  have  said,  so  I  will  do.  The 
note  can  lie  over  or  not,  just  as  you  like,"  re- 
plied Coleman.  "  If  you  have  sold  it,  my 
advice  to  you  is  to  prepare  yourself  to  lift  it, 
and  thereby  save  your  credit.  It  will  not  hurt 
mine  to  let  it  remain  unpaid,  for  all  who  credit 
me  understand  the  matter,  and  I  act  under 
their  advice.  And  now  I  give  you  warning, 
that  it  is  my  intention  to  resist  the  payment  of 
all  these  notes.  It  is  not  right- that  you  should 
be  paid  and  others  get  nothing.  When  I  have 
something  to  divide,  I  wish  to  do  it  equally 
12* 


138  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

among  all.  That  is  just.  And,  if  I  can  help 
it,  I  do  not  mean  to  be  forced  to  act  diffij 
rently." 

Turner  made  strong  threats  of  what  he  -would 
do,  but  failed  to  mention  the  fact  that  Everton 
held  the  note.  Had  he  done  so,  he  would, 
probably,  have  alarmed  Coleman,  and  brought 
him  to  terms.  But  the  means  he  used  in  order 
to  effect  his  purpose  failed.  The  note  was 
protested,  and  he  had  to  lift  it  at  a  time  when 
he  was  harassed  almost  to  death  with  demands 
for  money  in  his  regular  business. 

The  fact  that  Coleman  let  this  note  lie  over, 
was  satisfactory  proof  to  the  mind  of  Everton, 
that  he  vas  not  doing  as  well  as  Turner  had 
represented,  and  that  it  would  be  no  use  for 
him  to  press  his  large  claim  yet.  It  so  hap- 
pened that  he  mentioned  to  some  one  the  fact 
that  he  held  two  more  notes  of  Coleman's, 
bought  from  Turner,  and  that  he  did  not  mean 
to  press  for  his  own  claim  until  after  they  fell 
due.  This  information  passed  from  one  to 
another  until  it  came  to  Mr.  Coleman's  ears, 
and  gave  him  to  understand  exactly  what  he 
had  to  depend  upon.  It  was  a  great  relief  to 
his  mind,  for  it  ensured  him  a  freedom  from 
molestation  for  at  least  two  years  to  come. 

As  for  Turner,  Coleman  had  settled  with  hig 


MARION   S    REWARD  13i> 

friends  the  mode  of  quieting  him  before  he 
determined  not  to  lift  the  note  he  had  given 
three  years  before.  He  was  aware  that  hia 
persecuting  and  hard  creditor  was  himself  in  a 
position  to  need  friends,  and  that  there  were 
those  who  were  granting  him  large  business 
favors,  whose  word  to  him,  just  at  that  time, 
would  have  almost  the  weight  of  a  command. 
These  persons  were  old  creditors  of  his,  who 
had  stood  by  him  in  his  new  efforts  to  get  upon 
his  feet  again  ;  and  they  had  advised  him  to  do 
as  he  had  done.  Their  influence  was  not  mis- 
calculated. Turner  called  often  upon  Coleman 
and  threatened  a  great  deal,  but  did  not  com- 
mence a  suit.  He  had  good  and  sufficient 
reasons  for  not  doing  so. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

MARION'S  REWARD. 

DURING  the  three  years  that  had  elapsed, 
Marion  continued  an  inmate  of  Mr.  Hender- 
son's family,  still  loved  and  respected  by  all 
who  had  an  opportunity  to  know  the  excellen- 


140  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

ccs  of  her  character.  As  at  first,  she  kept 
herself  secluded.  It  was  all  in  vain  that  Mrs. 
Henderson  urged  her  to  meet  her  friends  in  the 
parlor ;  only  in  a  few  instances  had  she  con- 
sented to  do  so.  On  several  occasions  there 
had  been  parties  in  the  house,  and  most  ol 
those  who  attended  were  old  friends  and  ac- 
quaintances of  Marion  ;  but  she  could  not  bo 
induced  to  make  one  of  the  company. 

"  It  is  best  for  me  to  keep  in  my  own 
place,"  she  generally  replied  to  Mrs.  Hender- 
son, when  that  lady  urged  her  to  come  out  of 
her  seclusion.  "  I  will  save  my  own  feelings, 
and  perhaps  the  feelings  of  others." 

The  collegiate  course  of  Henry  Colemai. 
having  come  to  its  end,  he  returned  home  at 
the  age  of  twenty-one  years,  bringing  with  him 
the  highest  and  most  flattering  testimonials 
from  the  Faculty.  It  was  not  till  then  that  he 
became  aware  of  the  great  sacrifice  his  sister 
had  made,  and  of  the  debt  of  gratitude  he  owed 
her.  He  was  deeply  affected  when  he  was  told 
the  truth — affected  even  to  tears. 

"It  is  a  benefit  obtained  at  too  dear  a 
price,"  he  said  to  his  father  and  mother,  when 
they  related  the  touching  history  of  Marion's 
self-devotion.  "  Oh !  if  I  had  dreamed  of  this, 
the  college  walls  would  not  have  held  me  an 


MAR. OX'S    REWARD.  141 

hour.  Can  I  ever  repay  her  ?  No  !  no  ! 
What  she  has  done  admits  of  no  valuation. 
Why  did  you  let  her  do  it  ?  It  was  wrong." 

"No,  my  son,"  replied  Mr.  Coleman,  in  a 
calm  voice.  "  It  was  not  wrong,  as  the  sequel, 
I  trust,  will  prove.  But  her  clear  reasoning — 
lucid  from  pure  affection — compelled  me  to  see 
with  her.  Your  education,  it  is  true,  has  cost 
a  great  price — how  great,  we  may  never  be  able 
to  estimate.  Let  this  thought  stimulate  you  to 
make  the  best  and  noblest  use  of  it  in  your 
power.  And  I  know  you  will.  The  brother 
of  such  a  sister,  can  never  aim  at  a  low 
mark." 

Just  then  Marion  came  into  the  room. 

"  Dear  sister  !"  said  the  young  man,  in  a 
quivering  voice,  "  I  have  just  heard  all." 

He  could  find  utterance  for  no  more.  But 
he  drew  his  arms  around  her  neck,  pressed  his 
lips  fervently  to  her  pure  white  brow,  and  laid 
his  wet  cheek  against  hers. 

In  that  moment,  the  self-devoted  girl  had  a 
full  reward. 

"  May  the  blessing  of  Heaven  go  with  you 
until  the  latest  hour  of  your  life,"  said  tlu: 
young  man,  with  deep  fervor,  as  he  at  length 
took  his  arms  from  his  sister's  neck,  and  looked, 


142.  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

with  an  earnest,  loving,  yet  tearful  smile,  into 
her  face. 

After  a  short  period  of  deliberation,  it  wa? 
determined  that  Henry  should  enter  upon  the 
study  of  law,  he  expressing  a  decided  preference 
for  it ;  and  he  accordingly  entered  the  office 
of  an  eminent  attorney. 

As  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Henderson  were  far  from 
wishing  to  dispense  with  the  services  of  Marion, 
she  continued  in  their  family,  though  much 
against  the  will  of  her  brother. 

Three  or  four  years,  in  their  passage,  had 
not  failed  to  leave  many  of  their  foot  prints  on 
the  heart  of  Marion  ;  and,  as  what  touches  the 
heart  is  reflected  upon  the  face,  her  countenance 
showed  the  marks  of  suffering.  Hard  as  she 
had  striven  to  banish  from  her  mind  all  thoughts 
of  Edward  Manning,  she  had  failed  in  her 
efforts  ;  and  though  she  had  not  once  seen  him 
during  that  long  period,  his  image  was  as  dis- 
tinct to  her  as  if  reflected  upon  her  vision  from 
the  surface  of  a  mirror.  This  secret  love  was 
wearing  into  her  heart.  But  the  pain  it  occa- 
sioned there,  had  not  so  marked  her  counte- 
nance with  suffering  as  to  mar  its  beauty.  The 
tone  of  feeling  in  her  face,  though  pensive,  was 
full  of  interest  to  the  oye  of  even  the  casual 


MARION'S  R/.WARP  143 

observer  ;  and  lie  who  looked  once,  would 
hardly  fail  to  look  upon  it  again — twice  seen, 
it  could  never  after  be  wholly  forgotten. 

A  little  while  before  nightfall  one  afternoon 
—it  was  nearly  four  years  from  the  time  tho 
great  change  in  Mr.  Coleman's  circumstances 
had  taken  place — Marion,  released  from  tho 
duties  of  the  day,  had  gone  down  into  the  par- 
lor, and  was  sitting  at  the  window,  looking  out, 
with  a  dreamy,  listless  feeling,  upon  the 
passers  by.  She  had  not  been  there  long,  be- 
fore a  face  presented  itself  that  she  bad  not 
seen  except  by  the  eyes  of  her  spirit  for  years 
It  was  that  of  Manning.  He  was  passing,  and 
their  eyes  met.  Involuntarily,  the  young  man 
paused  for  an  instant,  while  a  look  of  surprise 
went  over  his  face.  Then  slightly  bowing,  as 
if  half  in  doubt  of  Marion's  identity,  he  parsed 
out  of  sight. 

The  flushed  face  and  strongly  throbbing 
heart  of  the  young  lady,  as  she  rose  and  went 
up  quickly,  to  her  room,  indicated  the  effect  of 
this  sudden  appearance  of  one,  the  thought  ol' 
whom  had  been  so  long  in  her  mind.  When 
the  tea  bell  rung,  she  did  not  come  down  ;  and 
on  being  sent  for,  excused  herself  as  not  feel- 
ing very  well.  On  the  next  moruing,  when  she 
appeared,  as  us-jal,  ai  the  breakfast  table,  Mrs 


J44  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

Henderson  could  not  help  noticing  a  change  in 
the  expression  of  her  face,  but  said  nothing  to 
iicr,  except  to  enquire  if  she  felt  no  better  than 
•he  did  on  the  previous  evening,  and  to  urge 
her  not  to  weary  herself  with  the  children. 

About  eleven  o'clock,  that  morning,  Edward 
Manning,  who  was  well  acquainted  with  Mrs. 
F.snderson,  called  to  see  her,  and,  after  sitting 
for  a  short  time,  said — 

<l  What  young  lady  was  that  I  saw  at  your 
window  last  evening  ?" 

"  At  my  window  ." '' 

a  Yes,  I  was  passing  here  just  before  night 
fall,  and  saw  a  young  lady  with  a  verv  sweet, 
though  subdued  and  pensive  face,  sitting  at  that 
window.  I  am  sure  I  have  seen  her  before >Vut 
cannot  say  where.  I  believe  I  dreamed  about 
her  all  last  night.  Who  is  she,  Mrs.  Hender- 
son ?" 

"  You  mean  Marion  Colenian,  I  presume." 

The  young  man  looked  surprised. 

'-'  Marion  Coleman  !"  he  repeated.  "  Oh 
yes  !  Now  I  remember.  But  I  did  not  expect 
to  seo  her  in  your  house." 

"  Although  she  has  been  with  us  for  nearl) 
four  years." 

"  Is  it  possible  !  Hovr  comes  it,  then,  that  i 
have  not  seen  her  ;a  all  that  time  !" 


MARION'S  REWARD.  145 

"  It  is  her  own  fault,  She  has  secluded  her- 
self in  spite  of  all  our  efforts  to  induce  her  to 
appear  in  society." 

"  Why  so  ?  None  moved  in  society  with  a 
sweeter  grace  than  she  did,  when  we  had  the 
light  of  her  beautiful  presence." 

"  I  know.  But  you  are  aware  of  her  father's 
misfortunes." 

"  Oh  yes.  But  I  do  not  understand  why  she 
is  an  inmate  of  your  family.  Her  father  is  still 
living." 

"  Let  me  tell  you  the  cause,"  said  Mrs.  Hen 
derson.  "  And  when  you  have  heard  what  1 
am  going  to  relate,  I  am  sure  you  will  be  filled 
with  surprise  and  admiration.  She  is  living  in 
my  family  as  the  governess  of  my  children." 

"  She  is?" 

"  Yes.  And  now  let  me  tell  you  under  what 
peculiar  and  interesting  circumstances.  At  th<; 
time  of  her  father's  failure,  her  brother  Henry, 
a  young  man  of  promising  talents,  had  boon  a 
short  time  at  College.  The  total  destruction 
of  Mr.  Coleman's  business  deprived  him  of  the 
means  of  keeping  his  son  at  Yale,  and  it  was 
reluctantly  determined  that  he  must  come  home. 
To  prevent  this,  Marion,  of  her  own  free  will, 
and  without  consulting  her  parents,  resolved 
to  make  use  of  the  education  she  had  received 
13 


146  DEBTOR    AND    CKEDITOR 

and  of  the  abilities  she  possessed  as  a  means  of 
continuing  to  her  brother  the  advantages  he 
was  receiving.  Having  heard  me  express  a 
wish  to  have  a  governess  for  my  children  if  I 
could  get  one  who  suited  me  in  every  way,  she 
came  to  see  me,  and,  after  stating  her  views 
and  feelings,  asked  if  I  thought  she  would  do. 
I  was  deeply  moved  by  the  proposition,  involv- 
ing, as  it  did,  so  noble  a  sacrifice  on  the  part  of 
this  excellent  sister.  Gladly  did  I  accept  her 
offer,  and  a  blessing  has  she  been  in  my  family 
I  esteemed  her  before,  but  have  loved  her  as  a 
friend  and  sister  ever  since.  In  return  for  her 
service  in  my  family,  my  husband  met  every 
expense  of  her  brother  at  College.  Henry  has 
returned  a  thoroughly  educated  young  man,  one 
of  whom  any  sister  might  be  proud." 

"  And  did  he  know  of  all  this  ?"  asked  Man- 
ning. 

"  No.  Not  even  a  whispering  of  the  truth 
reached  his  ears.  He  came  home  at  vacation, 
and  found  Marion  ready  to  meet  him,  and  she 
remained  at  home  until  he  went  back.  When 
all  was  told  him  after  he  left  College,  it  is  said 
that  he  was  moved  even  to  tears  ;  and  avowed, 
most  solemnly,  that  had  he  known  what  his  sis- 
ter was  doing,  he  would  not  have  remained  at 
College  *or  a  day. 


MARION'S  REWARD  147 

"  Happy  brother,  to  have  such  a  sister  !" 
exclaimed  Manning,  warming  with  generous 
enthusiasm.  "Noble,  noble  girl!"  he  con- 
tinned.  "  A  worthy  ornament  of  her  sex,  all 
should  join  to  do  her  honor.  And  she  so 
worthy  to  shine  in  a  palace,  hides  herself  away, 
as  if  ashamed  to  come  forth  into  the  light. 
Mrs.  Henderson,  years  ago,  when  I  used  to  meet 
her,  I  was  often  led  to  remark  upon  the  purity 
and  truth  of  her  character.  Then  I  esteemed 
her  highly  as  an  interesting  and  pleasant  com- 
panion ;  but,  what  you  now  say,  presents  her 
to  me  in  such  a  new  light,  that  my  esteem, 
which  has  ever  remained,  changes  at  once  into 
love.  The  man  who  plucks  that  sweet  flower 
from  the  way  side,  and  places  it  in  his  bosom, 
breathes  an  atmosphere  perfumed  for  ever." 

"  To  one  who  knows  her  as  well  as  I  do, 
Mr.  Manning,  your  words  do  not  sound  strange- 
ly. It  is  even  as  you  say.  Whoever  is  him- 
self worthy  to  claim  her  hand,  and  can  win  her 
heart,  will  be  blest  beyond  the  common  lot  of 


man. 


"  The  brief  glance  I  took  of  her  face,  as  1 
went  by,  last  evening,"  said  Manning,  "  left 
an  impression  of  sadness  upon  my  mind.  la 
•he  not,  happy  ?" 

u  I  would  hardly  like  to  say,"  replied  Mrs- 


148  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

Henderson,  "  that  she  is  unhappy.  She  is  too 
good,  and  too  earnest  in  her  love  for  others  to 
be  unhappy.  But,  from  long  observation,  I 
am  satisfied  that  there  is  some  void  in  her 
heart.  I  have  thought,  that,  in  her  more  pros- 
perous days,  an  impression  had  been  made  upon 
her  affections ;  and  that  the  one  who  had 
made  it,  turned  from  her  when  the  shadow  of 
adversity  fell  upon  her  path." 

"  The  man  who,  knowing  her,  could  turn 
away  for  this  cause,  is  unworthy  of  her,"  said 
Manning,  with  a  strong  emphasis  on  hi? 
words. 

"  So  I  think.  But  the  impression  a  woman's 
heart  receives,  is  hard  to  efface." 

"  And  for  years,"  said  Manning,  musingly. 
"  this  lovely  girl  has  hidden  herself  in  your 
family,  and  through  that  long  period,  faithfully 
devoted  herself  to  the  task  of  imparting  in- 
struction to  your  children,  in  order  to  obtain 
the  means  of  educating  her  brother  !  It  is  a 
touching  and  beautiful  instance  of  woman's  un 
selfish  love.  Strange  that  it  should  not  have 
been  known  !" 

"  And  it  was  known  to  many." 

"  It  never  reached  my  ears.  But,  I  know  it 
now,  and  if  I  do  not  profit  by  the  knowledge, 
it  will  not  be  altogether  my  fault.  Mrs.  Hen 


MARION'S  REWARD.  149 

derson,  with  your  permission  I  will  meet  her 
again." 

"  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  there  is  no  im- 
pediment to  your  doing  so.  I  wish  to  intro- 
duce her  to  all  my  friends ;  but  she  has  met 
but  few,  and  they  called  specially  to  see  her." 

"  If  I  come  here  this  evening  and  ask  to  see 
her,  do  you  think  she  will  be  engaged  ?" 

"  No.     I  presume  not." 

"  Very  well.  I  will  come.  Foil  needn't 
mention  my  name  to  her,  until  I  call." 

As  here  proposed,  Manning  called.  Mrs. 
Henderson  went  up  into  Marion's  room  where 
she  sat  reading,  and  said  to  her  with  a  smile — 

"  There's  a  gentleman  in  the  parlor.  And 
he  has  asked  to  see  you." 

"  To  see  me  !"  returned  Marion,  the  color 
instantly  coming  to  her  cheeks.  "  Who  is  it  ?" 

"  Mr.  Manning.  You  remember  him,  do 
you  not  ?" 

The  color  faded  as  suddenly  from  the  face  of 
the  maiden.  And  her  whole  frame  began  to 
tremble. 

Mrs.  Henderson  was  taken  altogether  by 
surprise,  to  see  so  strange  an  effect  follow  from 
this  cause. 

"  Why,  Marion !"  she  exclaimed.     "  What 
ails  yoa  ?     Why  are  you  so  disturbed  :" 
13* 


150  I2EB1.1R    AND    CREDITOR. 

Marion  was  now  struggling  hard  to  control 
ner  feelings  ;  but  some  time  passed  before  she 
had  sufficient  command  of  herself  to  venture  to 
speak.  She  then  said — 

"  Are  you  certain  he  wishes  to  see  me  ?" 

"  He  asked  for  you ;  and  I  think  that  is  very 
good  evidence." 

Marion  sat  silent  for  a  good  while,  still  en- 
deavoring to  press  down  her  feelings  into  quiet- 
ude. 

"  Shall  I  tell  him  you  will  be  down  r"  in- 
quired Mrs.  Henderson. 

"  No.  I  cannot  see  him  to-night,"  replied 
Marion,  again  showing  a  good  deal  of  distur- 
bance. 

"  Why  not  r"  said  this  kind  friend. 

Marion  lifted  her  eyes  to  her  face,  and  Mrs. 
Henderson  saw  that  they  were  full  of  tears,  and 
yet  had  a  light  in  them,  that,  to  her,  seemed 
like  the  light  of  joy.  For  many  seconds,  Ma- 
rion looked  at  her,  and  then  burying  her  face 
in  her  hands,  sobbed,  for  a  long  time,  passion- 
ately. 

A  dim  suspicion  of  what  this  meant,  came 
stealing  into  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Henderson,  fill- 
ing her  with  a  new  surprise.  When  Marion 
had  become  again  composed,  she  said  to  her — 

"  So  strange  an  exhibition  of  feeling,  under, 


MARION'S  BEWARD.  151 

apparently,  so  inadequate  a  cause,  cannot  but 
excite  my  wonder.  You  have  proved  me  to 
be  your  friend,  Marion.  You  know  how  deeply 
everything  that  affects  you  affects  me.  Con- 
fide in  me  now,  as  you  have  before  confided  in 
me.  1  have  always  seen  that  there  has  been 
something  on  your  heart,  which  you  strove,  but 
in  vain,  to  conceal.  Do  not  conceal  it  from 
me  any  longer." 

But,  it  was  some  time  before  the  shrinking 
delicacy  of  the  maiden's  heart  would  permit  her 
lips  to  unfold,  even  to  her  to  whom  she  had 
half  betrayed  it,  the  secret  that  had  lain  in  her 
heart  for  years.  When  it  was  unfolded,  the 
recital  was  accompanied  by  many  tears. 

"  Then  why  not  see  him,  now  that  he  has 
called,  after  so  long  a  time,  to  renew  the  friend- 
ship of  former  years." 

"Not  to-night,  Mrs.  Henderson,"  replied 
Marion.  "Not  to-night.  I  could  not  meet 
him  with  the  composure  due  both  to  jnyself 
and  to  him.  If  I  have  been  weak  enough  to 
let  my  heart,  unsought,  be  won,  no  betrayal  of 
the  secret  to  him  must  occur." 

"  But,  what  can  I  say  to  him  ?" 

"  You  must  excuse  me  in  a  way  not  to  of- 
fend him.  It  would  be  unjust  both  to  him  and 
to  me  to  let  that  occur.  You  a- ay  say  that,  at 


152  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

any  other  time  I  will  see  him.  But,  under- 
standing all  that  is  in  rny  heart,  Mrs.  Hender- 
son, you  will  know  how  best  to  excuse  me.  Do 
it  in  your  own  way." 

"  I  will,  Marion,"  replied  Mrs.  Henderson, 
now  speaking  in  a  changed  and  pleasant  voice 
"  And  you  need  not  fear  that  he  will  be  of- 
fended." 

She  was  moving  away,  when  she  paused,  and 
looking  tenderly  upon  Marion,  added — 

"  But  I  must  say  one  good  word  in  your  ear 
to  make  your  heart  lighter.  I  know  that  you 
have  everything  to  hope." 

And  she  turned  away  and  left  the  room  ; 
not,  however,  until  she  had  seen  the  quick 
blood  crimsoning  the  face  of  the  girl  her  words 
had  made  happy. 

The  particulars  of  what  passed  between  Mrs. 
Henderson  and  the  young  man  we  will  not  re- 
late. The  interview  lasted  for  an  hour  ;  and 
when  it  closed,  Manning  understood  fully  what 
was  in  the  heart  of  Marion.  To  learn,  that, 
through  the  long  years  of  her  seclusion,  she  had 
thought  of  him  and  loved  him  in  spite  of  every 
effort  to  turn  from  his  image,  affected  him 
deeply,  and  made  him  a  lover  at  once. 

"  Tell  her,  that  I  will  see  her  to-morrow 
evening,"  said  Manning,  as  he  arose  to  go ; 


MARION'S  REWARD.  153 

"  and  tell  her,  also  that  my  heart  is  fully 
hers." 

Mrs.  Henderson  did  tell  her  this  and  a 
good  deal  more  ;  at  the  recital  of  which  Ma- 
rion wept  and  smiled,  by  turns,  like  a  wayward 
child. 

On  the  next  evening  Manning  was  to  call. 
When  the  word  came  that  he  was  below,  await- 
ing her,  Marion  was  but  little  calmer  than  she 
had  been  on  the  night  previous.  But  she  was 
happier.  She  descended  with  a  fluttering 
heart,  entered  the  parlor,  closed  the  door  after 
her,  and  was  alone  with  the  man  whom  she  had 
loved,  hopelessly,  for  years. 

An  hour  afterwards,  Mrs.  Henderson  joined 
them.  She  found  them  in  earnest  conversa- 
tion, and  noticed  a  little  movement  that  fully 
satisfied  her  that  all  was  right.  The  movc- 
msnt,  was  a  withdrawal  of  a  hand,  by  Ma- 
rion, that  had  been  lying  on  that  of  her  com- 
panion. 

We  need  hardly  say,  that,  during  this  hour, 
the  most  tender  confidence  was  established  be- 
tween Manning  and  the  lovely  girl.  They 
understood  each  other  as  fully  as  if  they  had 
been  lovers  for  years. 


154  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE     OPERATION     OF     TURNER'S     NO-RELEAS«E 
SYSTEM. 

THE  second  note  given  by  Coleman  to  Tur- 
ner was  about  falling  due,  when  tho  latter, 
whose  affairs  had  been  getting  in  a  worse  and 
worse  condition,  called  upon  the  former  and 
inquired,  with  considerable  anxiety,  if  he  in- 
tended lifting  it. 

"  I  certainly  do  not,"  was  replied. 

"  You  do  not !" 

"  No." 

"  Mr.  Coleman,  you  must  lift  this  note." 
This  was  said  with  evident  agitation. 

"  If  I  consulted  my  own  feelings  as  your 
debtor  in  the  amount  of  a  thousand  dollars, 
most  cheerfully  would  I  do  it,  Mr.  Turner. 
But  in  strict  justice,  I  cannot  pay  you,  who 
held  me  bound  to  the  uttermost  farthing,  when 
I  was  prostrate  and  helpless,  and  let  others, 
who  generously  released  me,  go  without  a 
penny.  You  may  compel  me  by  law  to  settle 
the  amount  of  this  note  ;  but,  not  until  you  do 
10,  will  you  get  a  farthing,  except  as  a  prorala 


THE  NO- RELEASE  SYSTEM.       155 

proportion,  divided  amongst  all  to  whom  I  arc 
indebted.  The  moment  I  can  safely  do  so,  I 
will  make  such  a  dividend." 

Turner  became  exceedingly  disturbed  at 
this  declaration.  He  replied,  not  angrily  nor 
threateningly,  but  rather  imploringly. 

"  Mr.  Coleman,  for  mercy's  sake  don't  as- 
sume this  position  with  me  now.  The  note  is 
out  of  my  hands,  and  I  am  not  in  a  condition  to 
lift  it  at  this  time." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  you,  but  cannot  break  my 
resolution.  If  the  note  is  out  of  your  hands,  of 
course  you  have  had  the  money  for  it,  and, 
after  using  it  for  a  time,  can  now  return  it." 

"  As  I  live,"  replied  Turner,  "  I  do  assure 
you,  that  I  only  got  one  thousand  dollars  for 
your  three  notes  of  a  thousand  each." 

"  That  is,  you  got  the  loan  of  a  thousand  on 
them  as  collateral  ?" 

"  No.  I  parted  with  them  entirely,  and  all 
I  realized  in  doing  so  was  one  thousand  dollars, 
which  I  have  paid  back  in  lifting  the  first  note 
that  fell  due.  If  I  have  to  take  up  this  one,  I 
will  be  the  loser  of  a  thousand  dollars,  besides 
my  whole  claim  against  you." 

•'  I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Turner,  very  sorry,  that, 
through  me,  any  man  should  lose  a  dollar,"  rfr- 


L56  DEBTCR    AND    CREDITOR. 

plied  Colernan.  "  But  your  present  loss  arises 
from  your  own  act,  not  mine.  Had  you  spared 
:ne,  when  others  spared  me,  you  would  not 
have  fallen  into  this  difficulty." 

"  I  shall  have  to  coerce  matters,  I  see,"  said 
Turner,  changing  his  manner,  on  finding  that 
nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  persuasion. 

"  You  cannot  realize  your  money  in  any  other 
way,"  coolly  returned  Coleman. 

"  It  is  not  honest,"  retorted  the  creditor. 

"  That  matter  I  will  settle  with  my  own  con- 
science," was  replied. 

"  You  will  not  lift  this  note  ?" 

"  No  sir." 

"  Then  I  must  only  take  my  remedy."  And 
Turner  departed. 

On  the  day  following  the  note  fell  due.  It 
was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  Turner 
could  meet  his  regular  payments.  To  provide 
for  this  was  impossible.  The  note  remain- 
ed in  bank  at  the  hour  of  three,  and  was  pro- 
tested. 

Everton  immediately  called  upon  Turner  us 
the  endorser,  to  know  what  he  was  going  to  do. 

"  You  must  make  Coleman  pay  it.  He  is 
able  enough,"  replied  Turner. 

a  No  sir.     I  look   to  you.     I've   got  heav^ 


THE    NO-RELEASE    SYSTEM.  ?.l)7 

enough  claims  against  Colcman  as  it  is.  When 
I  come  down  upon  him,  it  will  be  for  more  than 
a  thousand  dollars." 

"  He  can  meet  this  and  all  you  have  against 
him  besides." 

"  That's  neither  here  nor  there,  Mr.  Tur- 
ner. Enough  that  I  look  to  you  for  payment." 

"  I  have  too  much  regular  business  paper  to 
lift,  to  take  care  of  this  endorsement  now." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  and  Everton  turned  away 
and  left  his  store. 

In  a  week  an  officer  served  a  writ  upon  Tur- 
ner, and,  in  thirty  days  thereafter,  judgment 
was  obtained.  To  prevent  an  execution,  Tur- 
ner, driven  to  great  extremity,  sent  several 
cases  of  goods  which  he  had  just  purchased  on 
time,  to  auction,  and  got  a  sufficient  advance 
thereon  to  pay  the  protested  note  and  the  cost 
of  the  suit  brought  to  recover  it. 

Both  notes  were  placed  in  the  hands  of  a 
lawyer,  with  directions  for  him  to  recover  the 
amounts  they  called  for  as  quickly  as  possible, 
and  writs  were,  in  turn,  served  upon  Coleman. 
As  soon  as  the  latter  received  them,  he  made 
the  fact  known  to  three  or  four  of  his  friends, 
and  they  consulted  together  as  to  what  had  bet- 
ter be  done.  These  friends  were  all  large  cre- 
ditors of  Turner,  and  were  in  the  habit  of 
14 


158  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

granting  him  many  business  accommodations 
They  knew  that  he  was  hard  pressed,  but  did 
not  think  him  in  any  danger.  It  was  deter- 
mined to  speak  pretty  positively  to  him  on  the 
subject,  and  tell  him,  with  something  of  an  im- 
plied threat,  that  he  must  not  attempt  to  coerce 
Colcinan  into  the  payment  of  notes  extorted 
from  him  at  a  time  when  they,  as  well  as  others, 
generously  released  him  from  debts  which  he 
had  no  means  of  paying. 

This  course  had  the  desired  effect.  The 
claims  were  not  prosecuted  to  judgment. 

The  "  no  release"  system  of  Turner  was  not 
working  so  well  in  this  instance.  Instead  of 
getting  his  own,  even  to  the  last  farthing,  the 
unrelenting  course  he  had  pursued  had  already 
cost  him  a  thousand  dollars,  and  there  was  a 
fair  probability  of  its  costing  him  another  thou- 
sand, even  if  he  escaped  worse  consequences. 

It  so  happened  that  the  goods  sent  to  auc- 
tion by  Turner,  had  been  bought  from  one  of 
the  individuals  through  whoss  influence  he  vras 
prevented  from  coercing  Coleman  into  the  pay- 
ment of  his  notes  ;  and  it  so  happened,  that 
this  individual  saw  these  very  goods  in  the  auc- 
tion store  before  they  were  sold,  and  knew 
them.  The  truth  flashci  across  his  mind,  and 
be,  at  the  same  moment,  recollected  how  bitterly 


THE    NO-RE.LEASE    SYSTEM.  159 

Turner  "bad  persecuted  Culeman  for  a  similar 
transaction  years  before. 

The  inevitable  conclusion  to  which  the  mer- 
chant came,  was,  that  Turner  must  be  more 
seriously  embarrassed  in  his  business  than  he 
had  supposed,  and  that  a  prudent  course  for 
him  would  be  to  get  back  the  money  he  had 
loaned  him  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  sell  him 
no  more  goods.  In  the  course  of  a  couple  of 
weeks,  the  borrowed  money  account  was  ba- 
lanced. Two  days  afterwards,  Turner  called 
upon  him  and  wanted  a  thousand  dollars. 

"  Havn't  fifty  dollars  in  the  bank,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  I'm  sorry.     But  can't  you  get  it  for  me  ?" 

The  merchant  shook  his  head. 

"  Money  is  money  now." 

"  Can't  you  get  me  five  hundred  ?" 

"  Indeed  I  cannot.  If  I  wanted  as  much 
myself,  I  wouldn't  know  where  to  get  it  to-day.'- 

Heretofore,  when  other  sources  of  accom- 
modation failed,  this  one  had  been  sure.  Tur- 
ner went  away,  feeling  gloomy  and  alarmed 
As  he  left  the  store  of  the  merchant,  a  thought 
of  the  goods  he  had  sent  to  auction  flashed 
across  his  mind,  and  his  heart  sunk  trembling 
in  his  bosom  with  the  fear  that  a  discovery  of 
the  transaction  had  been  made. 


110  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

«  If  so,"  he  sighed,  "  all  is  lost." 
It  \rar<  nearly  three  o'clock  when  his  paper 
was  out  of  bank  that  day,  and  he  went  home  to 
dinner  without  his  usual  appetite  for  food. 

The  merchant,  whose  goods  had  been  sent 
to  auction,  had  one  or  two  particular  friends  to 
whom,  after  reflection,  he  felt  bound  to  com- 
municate the  fact  he  had  discovered.  This 
sealed  the  fate  of  Turner.  When  they,  too, 
denied  him  the  usual  money-accommodations  he 
had  received  at  their  hands,  and  also,  virtually 
declined  selling  him  any  more  goods,  his  failure 
became  inevitable.  In  less  than  a  week  his  pa- 
per was  protested  to  a  large  amount,  and  suits 
immediately  commenced  thereon.  To  struggle 
on  further  was  a  hopeless  task.  After  a  con- 
sultation with  friends,  it  was  deemed  wisest  for 
Turner  to  call  a  meeting  of  creditors,  and  it 
fell  to  his  lot  to  pass  through  the  painful  ordeal 
of  an  examination  before  those  to  whom  he  was 
indebted  beyond  his  ability  to  pay.  In  such 
examinations,  where  his  had  been  the  creditor's 
position,  such  a  feeling  as  sympathy  and  kind- 
ness had  never  warmed  his  heart — such  a  thing 
as  mercy  he  had  never  shown.  He  had  been 
satisfied  with 'nothing  less  than  the  pound  of 
flesh.  But,  the  measure  he  had  meted  out, 
was  not  measured  to  him  again.  Though  ht 


THE    NO-RELEASE    SYSTEM.  161 

had  shown  no  regard  for  others,  others  regard- 
ed him,  and  refrained  from  dealing  harshly 
with  him.  Even  the  fact  of  sending  goods  to 
auction  was  not  charged  against  him,  although, 
in  a  similar  case,  he  had  made  a  similar  act  the 
basis  of  an  insulting  and  cruel  persecution. 
Still,  there  were  certain  features  in  his  busi- 
ness, as  well  as  in  his  character,  as  a  merchant, 
that  determined  his  creditors  to  have  his  affairs 
settled  up  by 'the  agency  of  an  assignee.  The 
final  result,  when  everything  was  collected  in 
and  divided,  showed  no  better  for  creditors 
than  in  the  case  of  Coleman. 

The  wants  of  a  large  family,  and  the  burden 
of  a  large  debt,  drove  Turner  into  the  same 
narrow  way  through  which  Coleman  had  been 
compelled  to  walk.  He,  too,  found  an  appeal 
to  creditors  for  a  release,  a  measure  of  pressing 
necessity  ;  and  he  could  now  see  the  reasonable- 
ness, the  justice,  and  the  humanity  of  such  a 
release.  It  is  gratifying  to  be  able  to  say,  that 
he  met  with  but  few  difficulties  in  the  accom- 
plishment of  what  he  sought. 


162  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

EVERTON    OUTWITTED. 

IMMEDIATELY  upon  the  failure  of  Turner, 
Everton,  from  some  cause  or  other,  made  up 
his  mind  to  press  his  claim  against  Coleman 
before  waiting  until  the  maturity  of  the  third 
note  which  he  held,  and  accordingly  placed  his 
account  in  the  hands  of  his  lawyer,  and  di- 
rected him  to  commence  proceedings.  This 
occurred  so  soon  after  Edward  Manning  had 
declared  himself  the  lover  of  Marion,  that  no 
information  of  this  last-mentioned  pleasing 
fact  had  yet  been  communicated  to  the  parents, 
although  the  young  man  was  on  the  eve  of  see- 
ing the  father,  and  formally  asking  for  the 
hand  of  his  daughter. 

The  knowledge  of  what  his  uncle  was  doing 
came  first  to  Edward  through  Marion  ;  and  he 
was  troubled  by  it.  He  had  but  a  small  pro- 
perty himself,  and  his  expectations  from  h:a 
uncle  were  large.  The  greater  part  of  the 
capital  he  had  in  hij  business  was  derived  from 
Mr.  Everton,  and  he  was  at  all  times  under 
obligations  to  him.  He  was  aware  that  his  un- 
cle had  felt  p,  good  deal  incensed  against  Mr. 


EVERTON    OUTWITTED.  163 

Culeinan,  at  the  time  of  his  failure  ;  but  ho 
had  supposed  that  all  was  long  ago  forgotten. 
To  find,  instead  of  this,  a  revival  of  the  old 
claim,  and  the  evident  intention  to  prosecute 
it  to  an  issue,  might  well  make  him  feel  uneasy. 
Of  course  he  must  do  something  by  which  the 
progress  of  affairs  would  be  arrested  ;  but  the 
step  to  take  was  not  by  any  means  so  clear. 

After  thinking  over  the  matter  for  one  or 
two  days,  he  determined  to  disarm  his  uncle  by 
a  kind  of  stratagem.  With  this  end  he  called 
upon  him,  and  after  some  preliminary  conver- 
sation thus  approached  his  subject. 

"  I  heard  a  very  interesting  incident  not  long 
since,  that  both  surprised  and  pleased  me." 
"  Ah  !  what  was  it  ?" 

"  Some  years  ago  a  merchant  of  our  city 
failed  and  was  broken  up  root  and  branch. 
His  eldest  son,  a  lad  of  fine  talent?,  had  just 
entered  college  ;  but  stern  necessity  required 
that  all  his  prospective  advantages  should  be 
relinquished.  His  father  could  no  longer  bear 
the  heavy  expense.  It  had  been  fully  decided 
that  the  boy  should  come  home  ;  when  his 
sister,  a  beautiful  and  highly  accomplished 
young  girl,  whom  I  had  often  met  and  admired 
in  her  father's  better  days,  moved  by  a  pure 
and  self-sacrificing  affection,  went  to  a  lady,  a 


164  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

former  friend,  and  entered  her  family  as  gover- 
ness, in  order  to  procure  the  means  for  continu- 
ing her  brother  at  College.  So  highly  was 
she  esteemed  in  this  family,  and  so  warmly 
were  her  wishes  seconded,  that  the  husband  ol 
the  lady,  in  return  for  her  services,  paid  every 
expense  of  her  brother  for  over  three  years, 
during  all  of  which  time  she  continued  her 
duties  as  governess  of  his  children.  And  it  is 
remarkable  that  she  was  able  to  conceal  from 
her  brother  during  the  whole  time,  the  fact  that 
her  labor  was  procuring  him  the  great  advan 
tages  he  was  enjoying." 

"  I  should  say  that  she  was  a  gii'l  of  the 
right  kind  of  stuff,"  remarked  Mr.  Everton. 
"  She  is  one  in  a  thousand,"  replied  Edward 
"  Better  say,  one  in  ten  thousand." 
"  Or  even  fifty  thousand.     During  this  long 
period  she  lay  hidden  in  the  family  she  had  en 
tered,  like  a  costly  gem  concealed  in  a  casket 
I  had  known  and  admired  her  in  her  better 
days,  as  they  are  called,  and  often  thought  of, 
but  did  not  meet  her  in  the  darker  period  of 
her  patient  toil." 

"Was  it  right,  Edward,"  said  the  uncle, 
"  for  the  family  into  which  she  had  come.y  to 
.et  her  lie  so  totally  cu>  ;ealed  ?" 

c<  It  was  her  own  fault  that  many  of  her  old 


EVERTON    01  TWITTED.  165 

friends  were  not  restored  to  her.  She  felt  her- 
self to  be  in  society  only  a  governess,  and  knew 
that  if  she  ventured  back  into  the  old  circle 
where  were  many  to  give  her  a  glad  welcome, 
she  would  be  subjected  to  pain  from  the  cold- 
ness and  pride  of  those  who  saw  merit  only  in 
a  certain  condition." 

"  And  who,  compared  to  a  noble  girl  like 
her,"  said  the  uncle  with  warmth,  "  were  low, 
mean,  and  base.  Why,  Edward,  a  woman 
such  as  you  have  described  is  beyond  all  price. 
Is  she  handsome  ?" 

"  All  admire  the  tender  and  peculiar  beauty 
of  her  face." 

"  And  well  formed  ?" 

"  She  is  faultless  in  proportion." 

"  Accomplished  and  well  educated,  of 
course." 

"  Few  are  her  superiors  in  these  respects." 

"  Of  her  disposition  I  need  not  ask.  The 
girl  who  from  love  of  another  could  devote 
herself  to  his  good  as  she  has  devoted  herself, 
must  have  a  loving  and  true  heart — so  loving 
and  true  that  all  other  defects  of  character  are 
softened  and  dispersed  by  its  genial  warmth." 

"  Your  inference,"  said  Manning,  "  is  natu- 
ral and  true  !" 


166  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

"  Have  you  met  this  paragon  of  her  sex  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Of  late  ?'» 

"  Yes.  I  saw  her  by  the  merest  accident, 
at  the  house  of  the  lady  where  she  lives ;  and 
when  I  heard  her  story  from  the  lips  of  her 
patron  and  friend,  who  speaks  of  her  with  the 
warmest  enthusiasm,  I  renewed  my  acquaint- 
ance." 

"And  you  were  right,  Edward.  Win  her, 
if  you  can ;  you  might  look  the  world  over, 
and  not  meet  another  so  worthy  to  become  your 
wife.  I  say  this,  because  I  have  seen  so  much 
unhappiness  spring  from  a  regard  to  family  and 
fortune  in  marriages,  that  I  do  not  want  you  to 
run  the  risk  of  being  cursed  for  life  by  a  com- 
panion who  may  have  nothing  else  to  recom- 
mend her." 

"  Thank  you,  my  good  uncle,  for  such  sound 
advice,"  returned  Edward,  seizing  the  hand  of 
Mr.  Everton.  "  And  now,  let  me  say,  that 
before  this  young  lady  was  banished  by  misfor- 
tune from  her  old  place  in  society,  her  heart 
had  become  interested  in  a  young  man,  though 
he  was  not  aware  of  the  fact." 

«  Ah !" 

;<  And  during  the  long  years  of  trial  and 


EVERTON    OUTWITTED.  167 

seclusion  through  which  she  has  passed,  the 
pains  of  a  hopeless  passion  have  been  added  to 
her  hard  lot." 

"  And  she  still  loves  on  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  but  not  now  hopelessly ;  for  the 
young  man  saw  her  of  late,  and  was  almost  in- 
stantly inspired  with  a  kindred  sentiment.  He 
called  upon  the  lady  at  whose  house  she  was 
staying,  learned  her  history,  renewed  his  ac- 
quaintance, and  acknowledged  himself  a  lover." 

"  Then  there  is  no  chance  for  you,"  said  the 
uncle,  in  a  tone  of  disappointment. 

"  Why  not  ?" 

"  Is  not  her  hand  already  engaged  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  but  to  your  lucky  nephew." 

"Ned!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Everton,  "why 
you  tricky  dog,  you !  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  You've  given  your  consent,  you  know,' 
said  the  young  man,  smiling. 

"  Oh  yes,  and  give  it  now,  twice  over,  if  that 
will  help  matters  any.  But,  Edward,  who  i? 
the  lady  ?  You  hav'nt  told  me  that  yet." 

"  I  believe  I  must  keep  that  secret  from  you 
a  little  longer,"  replied  Manning. 

"  You  must,  why  so  ?  I've  yielded  my  ap- 
proval on  your  own  recital  of  the  merits  of 
your  lady-love ;  what  more  do  you  want  ? 


168  DEBTOR    AND     CREDITOR. 

Come,  give  me  her  name.  I  see  no  use  of  fur- 
ther mystery." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  I  must  think  a 
little." 

"  Why,  Ned,  what  do  you  mean  ?  You're 
a  strange  fellow." 

"  The  fact  is,  uncle,  at  the  time  her  father 
failed,  a  number  of  years  ago,  he  owed  you 
money,  and  I  heard  you  speak  hard  against 
him." 

"  Ah  !  It  isn't  that  Coleman's  daughter  ?" 
Mr.  Everton's  countenance  became  serious. 

"  Yes.     Her  name  is  Marion  Coleman." 

"The  deuce  it  is!  Ned!  Ned!  That 
won't  do  !  Indeed  it  won't !  I've  a  grudge 
against  Coleman,  and  I  must  have  it  out." 

"  But  the  grudge  needn't  extend  to  his 
daughter.  She  has  never  crossed  your  path, 
nor  harmed  you  in  any  way." 

"  I  know.  But  don't  you  see  as  plain  as 
daylight,  that  if  you  marry  the  daughter,  I 
must  keep  my  hands  off  the  father  ?'' 

"  For  the  sake  of  so  good  a  daughter,  sup- 
pose, uncle,  you  spare  the  father,"  suggested 
Edward,  with  an  insinuating  smile. 

"No — no — no — no!"  replied  Everton, 
quickly,  "  don't  talk  to  me  in  that  ttay.  It 


EVERTON    OUTWITTED.  169 

can't    be.      Colcman    has    got    to    toe    the- 
mark." 

"  Perhaps  you  judge  him  too  harshly,"  sug- 
gested Manning.  "  He  may  not  have  intended 
to  wrong  you." 

"  But  he  did  ;  and,  I  think,  acted  with 
shameful  bad  faith." 

"  In  trying  positions,  uncle,  men  sometimes 
are  unable  to  see  clearly  the  true  course  of  ac- 
tion, and  often  do  wrong  when  they  mean  to 
do  right.  This  may  have  been  the  case  with 
Mr.  Coleman.  His  difficulties  were  of  a  most 
distracting  nature,  I  believe." 

"  Don't,  don't  talk  to  me  in  that  way,  Ed- 
ward, I  can't  let  that  man  escape  me." 

Manning  had  penetration  enough  to  see  that 
his  uncle  was  wavering.  So  he  replied  to  this 
good  humoredly. 

"  I  shall  have  to  bring  Marion  here,  I  find. 
You  may  withstand  my  arguments  ;  but  hers 
will  be  too  powerful  for  you.  One  glance  at 
her  sweet  face  will  cause  you  to  forgive  her 
father.  So  you  might  as  well  make  a  virtue 
of  necessity  and  do  it  at  once." 

"  Come  and  see  me  to-morrow  morning,  Ed- 
ward," said  Mr.  Everton  abruptly. 

"  Very  well,  uncle,  I  will  be  here ;"   and 
Manning  arose  and  departed. 
15 


i70  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

On  the  next  morning,  the  young  man  came, 
according  to  appointment.  Mr.  Everton 
looked  at  him  seriously,  and  nodded  coldly  as 
he  entered.  Before  any  remark  was  made, 
Manning  drew  a  small  Morocco  case  from  his 
pocket,  containing  an  exquisite  miniature  of 
Marion,  taken  some  years  before,  and  handed 
it  to  his  uncle,  but  without  saying  a  word. 
Everton  looked  at  the  gentle  face  of  the  lovely 
girl,  pictured  almost  to  the  life,  for  nearly  a 
minute,  while  the  eyes  of  Manning,  which 
were  fixed  steadily. upon  him,  could  see  no 
softening  of  a  single  feature.  The  uncle 
handed  back  the  miniature,  without  saying  a 
word,  and  turning  to  his  secretary  at  which  he 
was  sitting,  took  up  a  pen  and  wrote  hastily 
upon  a  slip  of  paper,  a  few  lines. 

"  There  !  will  that  satisfy  you  ?"  he  said, 
half  fretfully,  as  he  handed  the  slip  of  paper 
to  Edward.  The  young  man's  eyes  glanced 
over  it  eagerly.  It  was  a  receipt  in  full  of  all 
demands  against  Coleman. 

"  What  shall  I  do  with  this  ?"  asked  the 
young  man. 

"  Do  with  it  ?  Burn  it,  if  you  will ;  or,  if 
you  can  find  no  other  use  for  it,  give  it  to  your 
lady-love." 

"  Thank  y>u,  in  her  name,  my  dear  unole." 


EVERTON    OUTWITTED.  171 

said  Manning,  with,  much  feeling  "  When  I 
hand  her  this,  her  heart,  that  is  now  depressed, 
will  bound  again  lightly." 

"Depressed?  what  is  it  depressed  about, 
ha?" 

"  Through  her  I  learned  that  you  had  com- 
menced proceedings  against  her  father,  which, 
if  continued,  would  inevitably  destroy  his  busi- 
ness, and  break  him  down  again." 

"  Very  well.  It's  all  over  now.  But  Cole- 
man  may  thank  his  stars  that  he  has  so  good  a 
daughter !" 

"  And  so  may  I,"  replied  the  young  man, 
smiling. 

"  There,  there  !  That  '11  do,  Ned  !  And 
now,  off  with  you !  and  don't  let  me  see  your 
face  until — until — " 

"  My  wedding  night!"  said  Manning,  with 
a  broad  smile. 

"  I'll  disinherit  you,  you  rascal !"  exclaimed 
Everton,  with  affected  anger. 

"  And  leave  everything  to  Marion,"  re- 
torted the  nephew,  as  he  left  the  room 


172  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

CHAPTER    XI "V  . 

THE  DAWN  OF  BETTER  DAYS. 

ON  the  evening  of  the  day  the  occurrence 
mentioned  in  the  closing  of  the  last  chapter 
took  place,  Mr.  Coleman  came  home  from  hi* 
store,  feeling  gloomy  and  disappointed.  He- 
saw  little  hope  of  saving  his  business,  now  in  a 
prosperous  condition,  if  so  large  a  sum  as  tec 
thousand  dollars  were  recovered  against  him. 
which  would  inevitably  be  the  case  ;  for  Ever- 
ton's  claim  admitted  of  no  dispute.  Other 
creditors  had  the  power  to  come  in  and  save 
themselves ;  but  the  ruin  to  him  would  be  ine- 
vitable. One  disaster,  in  a  life-time,  was 
enough  for  him,  and  he  shrunk  from  the 
thought  of  passing  through  the  terrible  ordeal 
again,  even  more  fearfully  than  before.  Ma- 
rion was  still  in  the  family  of  Mr.  Henderson, 
but  the  father  was  anxious  for  her  to  come 
home.  Henry  was  reading  law,  and  had  to  be 
supported  until  able  to  take  care  of  himself; 
and  the  younger  children  required  a  larger  out- 
lay of  money  than  before  for  their  support  and 
education. 


DAWN    OF    BETTER    DAYS.  173 

No  wonder  that  Mr.  Coleman  felt  troubled 
He  came  in,  and  without  entering  the  parlor, 
where  his  family  were  sitting,  went  up  stairs. 
Marion  was  at  home,  but  he  did  not  know  it 
He  had  been  sitting,  for  a  few  moments  only, 
at  a  small  secretary,  and  was  looking  over  a 
letter,  when  Marion  entered  the  room  where 
he  was,  and  approaching  him,  said,  with  a  warm 
and  loving  smile — 

"  I  have  something  for  you,  dear  father," 
handing  him,  as  she  spoke,  a  small  piece  of  pa- 
per. It  was  the  receipt  Manning  had  obtained 
from  his  uncle. 

Mr.  Coleman  took  it,  and  read  it  over,  twice, 
before  he  understood  what  it  meant.  Then 
springing  up,  with  an  exclamation  of  sui-prise, 
said— 

"Marion!  Child!  Who  gave  you  this? 
What  does  it  mean  ?" 

Marion,  smiling  through  tears  of  joy,  re- 
plied— 

"  Dear  father  !  I  can  answer  you  nothing, 
just  now.  But  you  will  know  all  in  a  little 
while." 

"  My  child,"  said  the  father,  with  a  voice 

that  trembled,  "  what  new  sacrifice  of  yourself 

has  obtained  this.     Marion — Marion  !     Take 

it  back  !     Take  it  back !     Yo  i  have  passed 

15* 


174  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

through  enough  already.  I  will  accept  of  no 
exemptions  at  the  price  of  your  happiness ;  of 
your  self-devotion." 

"  No  such  price  has  been  paid,  father,"  said 
Marion.  "  In  no  bosom  pulsates  a  happier 
heart  than  beats  in  mine  to-night.  I  did  not 
obtain  this  receipt  for  you.  I  did  not  sue  for 
it.  It  came  into  my  hands  to-day,  unasked  and 
unexpected." 

"  Through  whom  ?" 

The  happy  girl  was  silent,  but  tell-tale 
blushes  were  warm  upon  her  cheeks. 

"  Is  there  cause  for  concealment,  my  daugh- 
ter?" asked  Mr.  Coleman. 

"  Mother  will  tell  you  all,"  murmured  Ma- 
rion, as  she  bent  over  her  father,  and  left  a 
kiss  of  love  upon  his  forehead.  In  the  next 
moment  Mr.  Coleman  was  alone,  so  surprised 
and  bewildered  that  he  could  not  help  saying 
aloud— 

"  Am  I  dreaming  ?" 

Mrs.  Coleman  came  in  from  the  next  room, 
as  he  uttered  this  exclamation,  and  soon  all  was 
explained. 

"Edward  Manning!"  said  Mr.  Coleman, 
after  he  understood  everything.  "  Can  it  be 
possible  !  One  more  worthy  the  pure  love  of 
our  child  I  do  not  know.  Oh  !  Has  she  not 


DAWN    OF    BETTER    DAYS.  175 

had  her  reward  !"  tremulously  added  her  fa- 
tlier.  "  She  has  passed  through  a  long  night 
of  trial  and  self-devotion,  but  the  dawn  of  a 
bright  day  is  breaking." 

"  How  we  have  feared  and  shrunk  at  every 
step  of  our  way  along  the  dark  paths  we  have 
trodden  !"  said  the  mother.  "  But  now,  all 
is  ivell.  How  foolish  a  thing  it  is  to  doubt  the 
I1  vine  goodness." 

Marion  did  not  meet  her  father  at  the  tea- 
table.  Nor  for  an  hour  afterwards.  Early  in 
the  evening  Edward  Manning  called,  and  for- 
mally applied  f~v  her  haud. 

"  Edward,"  replied  Mr.  Coleman,  "  I  can- 
not even  seem  to  hesitate.  I  have  no  cause  for 
doing  so.  Take  her,  and  wear  her  as  a  rich 
gem  in  your  crown  of  happiness.  When  you 
know  her  worth  as  I  know  it,  you  will  love  her 
more  deeply  than  ever.  May  she  be  as  good 
a  wife  as  she  has  been  a  daughter  and  sister 
With  her  as  your  companion  through  life,  you 
need  not  tremble  at  the  thought  of  adversity. 
In  the  darkest  night,  she  will  be  a  radiant  star 
in  your  firmament  May  God  bless  you 
both !" 

When  Marion  came  into  the  room  where 
they  were,  on  being  summoned,  Mr.  Coleman 
took  her  hand  and  laying  it  within  that  of  tho 


176  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

young  man,  uttered,  with  deep  emotion,  t,ho 
"•ords — 

"  Be  true  to  each  other.  And  may  your 
ties  ever  be  bright,  and  your  paths  lie  amid 
leasant  places." 

He  said  this,  and,  turning,  left  the  happy 
maiden  and  her  lover  alone. 

Three  months  from  that  evening,  there  was 
:i  small  wedding  party  in  the  same  room.  Mr. 
Everton  was  not  present,  but  he  showed  his 
feeling  on  the  occasion,  by  a  handsome  bridal 
present  to  Marion.  He  did  not  entirely  for- 
give Mr.  Coleman  until  after  ho  had  met  the 
daughter  a  few  times.  Then  the  sweetness  of 
her  disposition,  and  the  unselfishness  of  her 
heart,  drove  out  the  evil  spirit  of  revenge  he 
had  so  long  cherished  in  his  bosom.  Being 
willing  to  forgive  the  past,  it  was  no  hard  mat- 
tor  to  forget  it ;  and  he  could  now  meet  Mr. 
Coleman  with  the  frankness  and  good  feeling 
of  a  friend,  and  desire  rather  to  sustain  him, 
than  break  him  down.  From  that  time,  tho 
way  of  prosperity  was  fairly  opened  to  Mr. 
Coleman,  and,  in  a  few  years,  he  found  him* 
eelf  and  family  restored  to  their  old  places 
But,  they  chose  to  have  fewer  friends— so 
called — than  before.  Adversity  had  not  only 
sobers  I  their  feelings,  but  given  them  the 


CONCLUSION.  177 

ability  to  see  deeper  beneath  the  surface,  and 
to  understand  who  were  to  be  classed  with 
mere  fashionable  acquaintances,  and  who  with 
the  select  number  of  true-hearted  friends 


CHAPTER    XV. 

CONCLUSION. 

ERASTUS  TURNER,  after  obtaining  a  release 
from  his  creditors,  found  himself  without  a 
friend  to  take  him  by  the  hand,  or  speak  an 
encouraging  word.  The  entire  selfishness  he 
had  manifested  in  business,  and  the  utter  heart- 
lessness  with  which  he  had  always  pursued  a 
debtor  while  hope  of  getting  a  dollar  remained, 
had  estranged  from  him  men  of  better  feelings  ; 
and  from  those  who  were  like  himself,  he  had 
nothing  to  hope. 

Burdened  with  a  large  and  helpless  family, 
and  without  the  means  of  supporting  them, 
Turner  sunk,  for  a  time,  almost  into  despair. 
Instead  of  reducing  his  household  expenses  at 
once,  as  Coleman  had  done,  he  weakly  yielded 
to  his  wife  and  daughters,  who  madly  clung  to 
their  old  style  of  living  like  a  drowning  man 
to  a  straw.  But  that  would  not  save  thrm 


178  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

A  few  months,  and  pinching  want  enter- 
ed their  doors.  When,  at  last,  rich  furni- 
ture and  costly  ornaments  vanished  from  their 
sight  under  the  stroke  of  the  auctioneer's  ham- 
mer, nearly  all  the  money  that  was  received 
therefor  was  required  to  pay  the  expense  of  liv- 
ing since  the  time  all  income  from  business  had 
been  cut  off.  Without  employment,  or  the  meana 
of  entering  into  business,  poor  Turner's  case 
was  pitiable  indeed.  He  could  now  feel  for 
others  ;  but  sympathy  came  too  late.  He  had 
pursued  many  a  man  to  the  last  extremity,  and 
then  refused  to  give  up  his  claim  against  him, 
or  allow  him  a  single  chance  for  recovery.  In 
his  own  misfortunes,  he  had  found  men  more 
considerate  and  humane  than  he  had  ever  been 
himself.  Such  thoughts  were  far  from  being 
pleasant  companions  in  his  adversity. 

He  had  been  trying  for  weeks  to  get  some- 
thing to  do,  but  without  succeeding,  and  was 
in  an  agony  of  distress  and  anxiety,  when  his 
old  debtor,  Mr.  Coleman,  called  to  see  him. 

"  I  have  made  inquiry  of  those  whom  I 
thought  likely  to  know,"  said  Coleman,  after 
greeting  Turner  kindly,  "  and  learn  that  the 
two  notes  you  held  of  mine,  for  a  thousand  dol- 
lars each,  were  not  included  in  the  assets  of 
your  business.  Are  they  still  in  your  hands  r " 

c:  Thev  aro."  replied  Turner 


CONCLUSION.  179 

"  I  am  pleased  to  hear  it.  Learning,  yes- 
terday, that  you  had  not  been  able  to  get  into 
any  kind  of  business,  or  secure  any  employ- 
ment, since  your  late  misfortunes,  I  immedi- 
ately saw  a  number  of  my  old  creditors,  for 
whose  benefit  I  hope  soon  to  make  a  small  pro 
rata  dividend,  and  they  all,  with  one  voice, 
gave  their  consent  for  me  to  settle  your  claim 
in  full.  That  is,  the  principal,  or  two  thou- 
sand dollars.  Interest,  I  think  an  unfortunate 
debtor  never  should  pay ;  because  the  money 
he  owes  is  not  capital  in  his  hands  upon  which 
he  is  trading,  but  an  unproductive  debt.  Ho 
gives  up  everything,  and  has  to  start  with  no- 
thing. Burden  him  with  an  annual  interest 
equal,  or,  perhaps,  greater  than  the  whole 
yearly  gross  product  of  his  new  business,  and 
his  case  is  hopeless.  If  you  are  ready  to  give 
me  up  my  notes  for  the  net  amount  of  two 
thousand  dollars,  I  will  give  you  a  check  for 
one  thousand  now,  and  lift  the  other  in  three 
months.  Or,  if  you  wish  to  go  into  business. 
I  will  sell  you  a  thousand  dollars  worth  of 
goods  at  the  lowest  market  prices,  and  take  the 
second  note  in  payment  thereof.  With  this  as 
a  basis,  and  the  credit  a  thousand  dollars  in 
cash  will  enable  you  to  obtain,  you  can  re- 
commence business  in  a  sm*11  -*"  °nd,  I  hope, 
get  on  your  feet  agaip  v 


ISO  DEBTOR    AND    CREDITOR. 

So  manly  and  unexpected  an  offer,  com« 
pletely  astonished  Turner  ;  but  at  the  same 
time  it  took  a  mountain  from  his  breast. 

"  Mr.  Coleman  !"  he  said,  grasping  the  hand 
of  his  old  debtor,  "  you  have  come  to  me  in 
my  deepest  extremity ;  and  have  lifted  me  up 
and  set  me  upon  firm  ground,  just  as  I  felt  my- 
self sinking  hopelessly  beneath  the  waters  of 
misfortune.  And  this,  too,  after  I  had  pur- 
sued you,  in  your  troubles,  with  selfish  and  un- 
relenting cruelty." 

"  We  will  not  speak  of  that  now,"  returned 
Mr.  Coleman,  quickly.  "  It  is  past.  I  ren- 
der you  but  strict  justice.  In  the  future,  if 
either  you  or  I  should  have  to  deal  with  a  bro- 
ther in  misfortune,  let  the  remembrance  that 
he  is  a  man  of  like  passions,  procure  for  him 
the  utmost  kindness  and  consideration  that  can 
possibly  be  shown.  We  rarely  err,  when  we 
lean  to  the  side  of  mercy;  almost  always, 
when  we  deal  rigorously  with  those  who  arc  in 
trouble." 

Turner  bowed  his  head  and  received  this 
rebuke  in  silence.  It  was  not  meant  to  wound 
him  ;  and  was  uttered  so  mildly  that  it  did  not 
vround.  But  the  words  sunk  deeply  into  his 
heart,  and  were  never  forgotten. 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last 
date  stamped  below. 


QL 


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MiViDPi          IT- 1!  PI 


MAR  IB  1996 


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PS 
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A?8d 
1857 


